Inferno
by Divamercury
Summary: Direct sequel to The Angry Flame. Danger Zone comes sometime after. Sara comes down with a mysterious illness. Can Ian find out why before it's too late?...COMPLETE!!!
1. Default Chapter

Inferno

By Divamercury

Standard disclaimer applies. 

I am so thrilled that people have liked Angry Flame. This is the direct sequel to the aforementioned tale, and Danger Zone probably comes after this one chronologically. And Crazy For This Girl is in no way affiliated with the series; it was just an idea I thought of. Sorry about the mix-up. Anyway, please review! Suggestions are always welcome!

Chapter 1

"Another sunrise marks the beginning of another day in purgatory," I said to myself on the way to the 11th NYPD Precinct. It was December 4th, and that was never a good day. It was the day my father was killed, way back when (I won't say the year because then you'll be able to figure out how old I am) and I always hated that day. Nothing had gone right the whole day: I was already late for work, I had run into about four inanimate objects so far, and I discovered a nice, fresh scratch on the side on my motorcycle when leaving for work.

"Well, it's just another cold, exceptionally shitty December day here in NYC, folks," I muttered to myself. "Winter really, really sucks."

I got to work and met my partner, Jake McCartey, inside.

"Jeez, it's freezing out there, and it's not that much better in here," Jake said. I went to the coffee machine, trying to warm myself up with some actual motion, and retrieved two cups of coffee. We entered our office, and I handed one cup to Jake, who sipped it eagerly.

"Pez, you're a lifesaver," he said mischievously.

I groaned at that remark. "Either you cut out the candy jokes right now or else I'll take that coffee away and return it somewhere that you might not like," I said. Jake stiffened, glancing down at his lap. He knew I'd do it, too.

"So what's with you, Pez? You're in a worse mood than usual."

The man was observant this morning.

"Bad day. Automatically on December 4th I have a bad day," I said, getting a completely unmistakable look of confusion from Jake.

"My father was killed on December 4th," I explained flatly. 

"Oh!" Jake said, realization finally dawning on him. "I'm sorry, Pez."  
I flashed him a rare but genuine smile, my only one of the morning. "Thanks, Jake, you don't know how much I appreciate that."

Thankfully I was able to avoid Dante all morningI sent Jake to deal with him. He probably only agreed because I was having a terrible day and there was no telling what I'd do if I got really pissed. He wasn't the only one in the department that had noticed that people tended to die when I got mador even got involved.

The morning crawled by until my lunch break rolled around. Jake stayed at the precinct and I headed out to make the most of my free time. I left the building without my helmet and keys (because I was walking) but took my gun and badge as I always did.

Never leave home without em,' I thought. Maybe being paranoid was good for a cop; it kept you on your toes.

While I was walking through the streets toward a small café that was a particular favorite of mine, I literally bumped into someone, sending what they were carrying flying.

"Oh, jeez, I'm so sorry! Let me help you with that!" I said, picking up some scattered items on the sidewalk and then looking into a very familiar face.

"Ciara!" I exclaimed. I was looking at my friend Ciara Darkheart, the girl I had met at the Angry Flame. It had been six months since I had last seen her, but not since I had last spoken to her. She had called me before about this and that several times in the past, just recently about her past. She had informed me that she had been orphaned when she was very young and had lived in an orphanage until she reached job age, and then bounced from place to place until she ended up at the Angry Flame. 

"Sara! Hi! It's great seeing you after so long. How are you? I mean, how's your arm?"

"Much better. I can use it almost as well as I could before hand, but I'm wondering if it will ever be the same again," I said, glancing at the slightly disabled appendage. 

"Good, that's really good," Ciara said absently, staring at the Witchblade which was resting in icy lethargy against my right wrist. "Listen, could I talk to you for a minute?" she asked. 

"We are talking, Ciara," I said, although I knew what she meant. She was about to drop a major bombshell. 

"I mean in private. I've had some nagging questions that I've wanted to ask you for a while but I was afraid to just come up and ask you because I thought that you would think that I was crazy and I didn't know how to react to that."

I nodded. "I was already on my way to lunch before I ran into you, so let's go to Mandrill's and we can talk about whatever you want there."

We entered Mandrill's and sat down at a small round table inside, and then Ciara started talking.

"The night you saved my life, the night with East in your apartment," she began, "I saw some really weird things, but then they disappeared and I wondered if I had ever seen them at all."

"You saw what you saw, Ciara, it wasn't a hallucination. This–" I said, gesturing to the Witchblade, "–is definitely not what it appears to be on the surface. You know how I said that I didn't know why it was called the Witchblade?"

She nodded.

"Well, I actually know exactly why it was called the Witchblade, but I won't go into that right now."

"It looked like some kind of metal glovething–"

"–A gauntlet. Yeah, that's what it becomes when I get mad. Or when it gets mad all on its own. Don't look at me like that," I said indignantly as she eyed me suspiciously. "You won't get it because you can't wear it, but it really has a mind of its own."

"So basically what you're saying is that your bracelet is alive."


	2. Chapter 2

Inferno

By Divamercury

Standard disclaimer applies. Here's Chapter 2!

Chapter 2

"Wellin a way. Don't touch it," I said hurriedly as I saw her fingers inching cautiously toward the stone. She jerked back. "It really won't like that, and plus it gives me a really wicked headache. Come on, just trust me, Ciara. You saw the gauntlet, you know within limits what it can do, so do I really have to give you a demonstration? Please say no."

She shook her head. "It might be interesting one of these days, but not right now. Can I get a rain check? Public places don't smile on violence, Sara, you should know that, being a cop and all," Ciara said. "Plus, I believe you without having to see a demonstration. It's all so crazy that somehow I actually think it might be true."  
I smiled. "Believe me, I was a lot more incredulous than you are, and I'm the one that wears the damn thing."

Ciara was the one that smiled this time. "Well, thanks for filling me in about that thing. I was afraid I was going nuts there for a minute."

"I understand. Why are you rushing off? You and I could have lunch," I offered. "My treat," I said, swallowing a little of my pride. I didn't like to pay for a group thing. 

"At any other time I would have loved that, but–"

"–Luke," we said in unison. Ciara blushed.

"Yeah. I told him I'd meet him for lunch at his restaurant. He's the bartender at Trapetto's now, and you would know that they've got the best Italian food in the entire city, so how could I refuse?" she asked innocently.

"You couldn't. Bottom line. Go ahead, Ciara, we'll have lunch some other time."

"And plus, I have to spend time with him to figure out what to get him for a wedding present," she said.

"Oh my God! You and Luke are getting married! That's awesome!" I exclaimed.

"You really think so? Seriously?" she asked somewhat incredulously. All of a sudden she gave me an impulsive hug. I stiffened but still allowed her to do so. I didn't like to show my emotions too much and I wasn't planning to start then.

"Will youcould you please meet me at Maury's Dresses this afternoon at 5:00? I'm trying on my dress, because I already ordered it, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you about all this sooner but it just slipped my mind."

Your mind can be very slippery, unfortunately, Ciara,' I thought. Aloud I said, "So you're wanting me to participate? Doing what? I can't exactly guarantee proficiency, unfortunately."

"I'd really love it if you would be my maid of honor," she said. I was speechless (for once).

"I'd be glad to, Ciara, if you really want me to. There's no one else?"

"I consider you my best friend, Sara. I mean, God, you saved my life. Most people wouldn't do that for someone like me. So you can make it tonight, right?" 

"Sure, that's when I get off work. It sounds like I am desperately needed."  
"Wonderful! Well, I've gotta go. I'm really late!"

We said a hurried goodbye and then Ciara dashed out of the shop. I stuck around and bought some lunch, devouring it quickly and then heading back to the precinct. Jake was already there; he hardly ever went anywhere for lunch.

"Hey, Pez."

"Hey, Jake. I must immerse myself in the endless depths of paperwork. Wish me luck, and hope I don't drown."

"So, Sara, what are you doing for Christmas this year?" Jake asked me after a short period of silence. 

"Christmas? As in the holiday?" I asked distractedly, my nose buried in a huge pile of folders that I was trying to make sense of. 

"Uh, yeah, unless you can tell me some other thing that's called Christmas," Jake replied. 

I looked up from my work, coloring slightly. 

"Oh, yeahwell, not much, really. It's not high on my priority list," I said. "Bah, humbug," I added partly facetiously and partly seriously. 

Jake groaned. "Well, Scrooge, why don't you come with me to the department's party? Give you something to do."

This time it was my turn to groan.

"Perish the thought. I'm sorry, Jake, but there are a million things less painful than staying in a room with Dante all night. Like a root canal, for one. Maybe getting ripped apart by a swarm of sharksam I getting my point across?" I asked, diving back into my work. 

Jake's face fell. "Well, when you put it that way"

I looked up one more time and met his blue gaze.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you there, Jake, but I really don't want another opportunity for Dante to pin a "Shoot Me" sign on my back. I certainly wouldn't put it past him, seeing how many time's he's tried."

"Well, see you later, Pez. Sorry to stick you with all the paperwork, but I've got a big date tonight."

"It's okay. See ya," I said. I was just trying to make him feel better; there are few things on this planet that I hate more than paperwork, Kenneth Irons, and Bruno Dante. Notice how I called those men things' and not people.'

Unseen to Jake, on my way to the dress shop as I was getting on my motorcycle, I started humming Christmas carols quietly to myself, starting with "O Come All Ye Faithful," one of my favorites. I kind of lied about not worrying about Christmas; it crossed my mind a lot around this time of year, bringing with it happy memories of my all too distant childhood, but the truth was that I didn't have anyone to share it with. Therefore it wasn't something that I went absolutely crazy over, like some people with large families. Hopefully that would change for the better soon.

It took me a while to find this Maury's Dresses because I had no earthly idea where to look. It wasn't exactly one of a class of places that I went to often, but after about twenty minutes of searching, I located it. It was in the middle of a line of shops on 23rd St. that I had never explored before. I pulled into the parking lot and got off my bike, removing my helmet and shaking out my hair like I always did. Slipping my helmet under my arm, I entered the shop, cringing at the tinny sound of the bell as the door opened. Those always graced the doors of shops like those, full of things much too expensive for anyone with half a brain. I was wondering how much this wedding, with all the dresses, decorations, invitations, and other paraphernalia, was going to cost Ciara in the long run.


	3. Chapter 3

Inferno

By Divamercury

Standard disclaimer again. Enjoy Chapter 3!

Chapter 3

"Sara! You made it! I was afraid you wouldn't," Ciara said, running up to me. She clearly was relieved that I'd been able to make it. 

"Well, it was kind of hard to find the place without knowing where it was, but here I am." The bright salmon-colored walls were blinding me. I squinted so I could actually see.

"Well, wonderful! Come on, you have to meet my bridesmaids," she said, dragging me over to where two girls stood. One was tall with blonde hair and blue eyes and seemed to be the quintessence of arrogance. The other was short with brown hair and brown eyes and seemed to be a relatively nice person, although both seemed pretty vapid. Ciara must have considered us her best friends, but I wasn't itching to get to know the other girls, even though I probably wouldn't have wanted to anyway. Most other women made me nervous because I didn't–and never would–interact with them. To tell the truth, I believe that I had the same effect on all women; I made them nervous by my penchants as well by my unorthodoxy in humor and behavior, not to mention occupation. I saw my being there at all as a personal favor to Ciara, and that was it. 

"Girls, this is Sara Pezzini, the one I was telling you about," Ciara said. "Sara, this is Hillary Stratton and this is Louisa Alcott. We were friends in high school."

Please, please tell me that her middle name isn't May,' I thought desperately, and I picked up on how they were looking at me: analyzing my appearance, which must not have been much since I had just gotten off my motorcycle, the proof of which was under my arm. They looked at me like I was some inferior lifeform. Hillary (the short one) and Louisa (the tall one) were both wearing knee-length dresses (even in December!) and I was wearing leather pants. My hands, I noticed, were larger than theirs were, so naturally what dirty trick did I decide to pull? 

Handshake.

"You have no idea how nice it is to meet you both," I said with sweetness of such a high caloric content that it gave me a toothache. I took each one's hand in turn and relished the wince after I grasped it in a firm policeman's handshake. They, being ladies of "good breeding," couldn't withstand that kind of pressure but allowed me to finish anyway. 

Ciara, trying to stifle her laughter at her friends' reactions, went off to try on her dress. After she had gone, Louisa spoke.

"What do you do for a living, Sara?" she asked.

"I'm a homicide detective for the NYPD," I told her.

She cringed. "I am an interior designer and Hillary is a chef," Louisa said. 

I found that I liked Louisa steadily less every minute.

Just then Mrs. Maury rushed up to me, armed with a tape measure in her left hand, and started taking my measurements. 

Great timing,' I thought, grimacing. 

"Well, I guess it takes a special type of person to be a cop, huh?" Hillary the Meek asked curiously, proving herself to be very different from the rude Louisa.

"I guess so. You have to deal with crackpots shooting at you at any given time and you have to hold on to your lunch when you investigate gruesome murder scenes, as I do. I guess you'd say you have to have a strong constitution to do what I do," I said as I tried to dodge the tape measure from going around my neck and failed. Hillary looked at me admiringly. Louisa scowled.

"Ah, here's our lovely bride now," Mrs. Maury, quiet until then, said, and she released me from the measuring session. The three of us (Louisa, Hillary, and I) whirled around and looked toward the dressing room. A girl in white walked out and approached the mirror. I could barely recognize Ciara; she hardly resembled the vampiress wannabe I had once known. She walked until she was standing in front of the mirror of the dress shop. She looked much more natural without the heavy makeup she had been used to wearing when I had first met her. The pristinely white gown was very fitted and the skirt wasn't full, accenting her figure well, and showing her fair skin by the way it plunged in back. Her veil was of a medium length, not long enough to be dragging the floor but not so short that it was barely visible. It was a modern ensemble for a modern wedding.

"Luke is one lucky guy, Ciara," I told her, admiring her reflection as much as she was. "I am so happy for you."

This wasn't an empty remark. I truly was thrilled for Ciara. She deserved all the happiness she could lay her hands on, because her life had been very difficult. Just recently she had informed me that she had been orphaned when she was very young and had lived in an orphanage until she reached job age, and then bounced from place to place until she landed at the Angry Flame. 

I have never been a big fan of weddings, personally. Why? The whole Always a bridesmaid, never a bride' thing? Well, not exactly. I don't like the overflow of emotions, and I'm more like the occasionally-a-bridesmaid-out-of-the-bride's-pity-for-me, never a bride' type anyway. This would be the second time I'd done it, the first being for a friend of a friend once because she was short a maid thanks to a particularly virulent strain of flu. The dressGod, horrendous' doesn't even begin to describe it. Chartreuse: the scariest color on the planet. I had vowed never to wear it again. Thankfully Ciara had chosen a very neutral pale-peach color that looked quite natural and the style looked somewhat normal so we looked great. 

"Well, ladies, here are the bridesmaid's dresses. Try them on and see how they fit," the matronly shopkeeper announced after emerging from the back room, handing out the gowns. Mine differed slightly style-wise from Louisa and Hillary's identical garments because I was the maid of honor. I accepted it stoically and went into a small dressing stall to try it on. Since Mrs. Maury had taken my measurements only fifteen minutes ago, I harbored doubts as to whether I could fit into the dress, which suddenly seemed impossibly small.

Well, here goes, Sara.'

I emerged a few minutes later and made my way to the main room of the shop and stood in front of the mirror. The girls gasped, both staring at me with expressions of pure envy splashed across their countenances, and Louisa's was mixed with venom. I looked at myself in the mirror and analyzed what I saw.

I was encased in a dress of pale-peach satin that fitted my figure almost like a second skin but not unbearably so. It had long sleeves, one of which I pulled carefully down over the Witchblade, and a deep, somewhat triangular neck that cut a straight line across my bust. I gave silent thanks to the dress gods for not letting my Witchblade scar show; it was positioned directly under the left side of my collarbone and mercifully was covered, sparing me odd looks and a somewhat embarrassing explanation. The large collar with wide lapels also assisted in masking my scar. There were slits in the sides of the gown that allowed me to actually walk and it had a design of eyelets embroidered on it in thread that was of an identical hue to the fabric. 

Not bad,' I thought. This could actually be doable.'


	4. Chapter 4

Inferno

By Divamercury

Well, I bet you weren't expecting a multiple POV fic, were you? You'll see why it's necessary as I go along. Anyway, it's been Sara up until now, but the first part of this chapterit's not hard to guess who's talking. And Gabriel will be making an appearance later on down the line. So enjoy Chapter 4!

Chapter 4

As instructed, and by my own desire, I followed Sara from a distance that evening. I saw her enter the dress shop and carry on conversations with the girls inside it, albeit half-heartedly. The shopkeeper distributed dresses to the women inside and finally what was going on inside struck me. I had wondered why Sara would enter a place like that, my Sara of jeans and leather jackets. Obviously she was taking part in a friend's wedding and was receiving her dress. She disappeared for several minutes, trying on the dress, and then emerged, stepping up in front of the mirror.

I stood in awe, inhaling sharply, marveling at what I was seeing.

Sara was an absolute vision. She was a rival to the goddess Venus herself as far as beauty went and I couldn't help but stare. Her incredible figure was perfectly accented by the peach gown that she wore and she seemed to know it. The two other girls behind Sara were shooting looks of envy laced with venom at Sara's back, while the girl in white, obviously the bride, glowed with pride in her friend. Sara seemed to be in deep thought and was most likely analyzing how she looked. I smiled, then closed my eyes. I was making a mental picture of Sara like that and I promised myself never to forget how she looked at that moment. The way her thick mane of brown hair fell around her face, the way her green eyes sparkled as she took in her reflectionthis and a million other tiny details made her the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. 

Sara's gaze left her reflection and for a moment she could quite possibly have seen me in my position in a parking deck across the street from the shop. Luckily she didn't catch me before I slipped behind a column, or else something awkward would have happened. I left my post watching Sara, ignoring the ache deep inside me that told me to stay near my lady, and I headed back to Irons's penthouse. 

***

I glanced out the window and looked across the street. For a moment could have sworn that I saw a flash of black, but then blinked and decided that I was just hallucinating. I turned back to Ciara.

"Well, does this look all right?" I asked. " Because I've got to be going. I'm sorry to have to leave so fast, but I've got some stuff to do."

"Sure, Sara. I mean, I'm sorry to have brought you here on such short notice, but I'm really glad you could make it. Our first rehearsal is on the 27th, so I guess I'll see you then, huh?" she asked. 

"Works for me. See ya, Ciara. Louisa, Hillary," I said. I went back to the dressing room, changed my clothes in what must have been record time, and then left the shop.

"I need a shower," I said to myself. "The perfect end to the worst possible day. Damn December 4th."

* * *

After work on December 24th, I called my friend Gabriel, my leading source on the Witchblade except for Ian Nottingham.

"Hey Chief. I was just about to call you, in fact. I've got a few questions for you. Can you come and meet me this week some time?"

"Yeah, sure. How about the 27th?"

"Sounds good to me. See you then, Gabe."

"See ya, Chief."

Seconds after I hung up with Gabe I got a very peculiar phone call from Kenneth Irons.

"Hello, Sara. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to come to my home tonight."

"Why?" I asked warily. What is he up to this time?' I thought.

"You have no one to share the holidays with, unfortunately, and I thought that I would see if you would want to actually celebrate."

I was getting a little scared. This was way out of character for Irons.

"Fine. I don't have anything else to do, so why not? I'll be there in five minutes, Irons," I said. But he had already hung up.

"Damn! Another time he refused to let me hang up on him," I fumed.

Arriving on time as I did, Ian was waiting for me outside of the formidable edifice of Vorschlag Industries. 

"Good evening, Sara," he said, dropping his eyes as was his custom.

"Good evening, Ian. Merry Christmas," I said. He and I walked into the building together and into Irons's room. 

"You may close the door on your way out, Ian," Irons said. Ian obeyed, a bit disappointed, I noticed. 

"Would you care for some wine, Sara?" Irons inquired.

Usually I declined, because many times I was on duty, but this time was different. It was the holidays, after all.

"Sure. Thanks," I said, watching him pour the wine and accepting the glass he offered me.

"To the holidays and the New Year," Irons said. I agreed and we tapped glasses. I sipped the wine and then shuddered. It had an odd taste.

"Irons, has your wine gone bad?"

"Nonsense, Sara. Wine only gets better with age. Why?" he asked, his face oddly pale.

"It just seems bitter, that's all," I said, taking another sip. "But then again, I'm not used to wine, really."

"Ah, yes. Well, this wine does tend to have a temperamental body to it," Irons said, and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of something–triumph or malevolence, it was hard to tell–in his icy, unfeeling eyes. "It's an acquired taste." 

We talked about the holidays for a while, and I left when he offered me another glass of wine, politely declining. Even on nights when I wasn't on duty, I didn't like to get drunk. I didn't mind having a few drinks, but I never overdid. 

"Well, good evening, Sara. Take care," he said with an odd smile that somehow seemed to be saying exactly the opposite of what normal smiles meant.

On my way home I couldn't help but ponder what had just happened in there. Irons was acting really weird, even for him. Was he trying to get into my good graces again? Was he trying to convince me that he was my Guardian? Because he wouldn't succeed at that. I knew he wasn't. The question in my mind was "Who is my Guardian?" And would I ever find out?


	5. Chapter 5

Inferno

By Divamercury

Thanks for the wonderful reception of my work! Enjoy Chapter 5!

Chapter 5

I was grateful to have a day completely off from the wrath of Dante and all the other people that pissed me off. Holidays were wonderful, even if I didn't have anyone to share them with. My apartment was actually fixed up for Christmas this year (as opposed to previous years where I had ignored the significance of December 25th). The decorations consisted of strings of white lights around the apartment in various places and was completed by my mother's old nativity set (Dad said she had been a devout Catholic) and a small Christmas tree which, sadly, had nothing beneath it. I had to buy my own Christmas presents. 

On Christmas morning I awoke expecting nothing unusual, just like every other day off, but scanning my surroundings I remembered it was Christmas. And to my enormous surprise, I noticed that there was a small box beneath my tree that hadn't been there when I went to bed on Christmas Eve.

" What the?" I said, voicing my confusion to no one.

"You might want to open that, Pez, since it is under your tree," a familiar voice asserted, responding to my question. I jumped and whirled around to see Danny appear sitting on one of the two chairs pulled up to my kitchen table.

"Danny! Will I have to put a bell on you or something so you don't terrify me every time you show up?" I asked angrily. He still freaked me out, just popping up out of nowhere.

"I'd like to see you try, Pez. Solidity is something I don't have, and I don't think a bell would stay on me," he said with a satisfied smirk.

"Then how the hell can you still sit on things?" I asked. I often wondered about how a ghost could sit on things in this realm and not slide right through them.

"Who can work out all the enigmas of the afterlife?" Danny said, trying to evade the question and succeeding.

I sighed in exasperation. He was still the same old Danny, just not alive. "Well, is it from you?" I asked, gesturing to the box.

"Pez, I'm dead. It's not like I can just walk into Macy's and pick up something for you, even though I'd love to give you a present."

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about that. Well, thanks for the chat, Danny."

"Anytime, Pez. Merry Christmas." Danny smiled, and then vanished.

"Merry Christmas, Danny," I murmured, and then I went over to my small Christmas tree and picked up the package beneath it. It was about the size of my palm and it was neatly wrapped in black paper and had a small gold bow on the top. 

"Where did this come from?" I wondered aloud. I turned the box over and spotted a small tag on the bottom that was inscribed in precise, vertical handwriting that I had never seen before. It read:

Merry Christmas, Sara. I truly hope you like this. Irons has had it for several years but it rightfully belongs to you. 

Yours always,

Ian 

Ian had gotten me a present? Wow,' I thought. Go figure.' 

I carried the box over to my table, sat down, and then ripped open the wrapping paper to reveal a white box.

White box wrapped in black paper. Interesting. But then again, I should have expected black, knowing that it was from Ian,' I thought, opening the box to quell my intense curiosity. Inside it, resting on a pad of white cotton lay a Celtic cross necklace. The cross was clearly pure gold and was inlaid with two different colors of blue enamel. In several places the gold showed through the enamel, making it have an elegant appearance. I removed it from the box and clasped the delicate gold chain around my neck.

Wow,' I thought for the second time that morning. I got up from my kitchen table, got dressed in some sweats branded with NYPD on the front of the shirt and down the right leg, threw my hair up in a ponytail, and started my workout of the morning. I picked up some small 6-pound barbells and individually worked each arm, all the while pondering over the mystery of how the necklace I was wearing could have been rightfully mine when I had never known about it. But, I remembered that with the Witchblade, all things are connected. Nothing is coincidence. The hard part was figuring out what the necklace stood for.

***

Positioned in the parking deck across the street from Sara's building, I watched her in her routine. I smiled, pleased at her reaction to my gift. The previous night I had come to Sara's apartment, climbing the fire escape and entering the apartment through the window. I crept in silently and approached her Christmas tree. Smiling, I removed my gift from the pocket of my coat and left it under the tree. On my way out of the apartment I stopped by Sara's bedside. She had been lost in the depths of sleep, looking even more beautiful in repose as she did awake. I stayed as long as I dared, not wanting to wake her, and then I left, returning to Irons. I really didn't care about the penalty that would most likely result from my theft of the necklace from the Witchblade Hall, but Cathain's cross rightfully belonged with Sara since she was–or had been–Cathain, and Irons had no actual claim to it. Pleased by what I had seen, I left the parking deck and set off to perform some "errands" for Irons, all the while wishing I was free to stay and watch her for as long as I wanted.

***

When I finished my workout, it was time for lunch. I threw a sandwich together and devoured it while flipping channels and scanning mindless Christmas programming. I never thought that I would get bored on my day off, but I did, and I had to bring out some paperwork I order to be ahead for the next workday. I slaved away over paperwork for the rest of the day to keep from going insane from the tedium, occasionally taking breaks, until 10:00 rolled around. At that time, I decided I was done for the day and I collapsed into bed. For once I actually was looking forward to going to work. I doubted that that would ever happen again.


	6. Chapter 6

Inferno

By Divamercury

And nowChapter 6! I think I forgot to say last chapter that I don't own any of this, but you all know that, right? :)

Chapter 6

When I woke up the next morning, I was feeling a little under the weather. My right arm was incredibly sore, but I figured that I had just slept on it wrong or I had worked it too hard when I was lifting weights the previous afternoon. 

"Spectacular. I've already been having problems with my left arm and now my right is acting up. Forget about shitty days, like December 4th was. Now I'm having a shitty month." I got ready for work and left, noticing that for once I was early.

"Hey, Pez. How was your day off?" Jake asked me.

"Okay, but I was bored out of my mind. I even resorted to doing paperwork to keep me from going crazy," I said.

"Ouch. That must have been ugly. Listen, Pez, I've got to pick up something from Dante. Will you get the coffee this morning?" he asked.

"No, damn it, I've done it for the past three days," was on the tip of my tongue, and I frowned, but for some reason I said, "Sure," aloud. 

"Thanks, Pez. See you later," he said, turning around and leaving.

What the hell?' I thought. I just said yes but I really meant no. I must have hit my head on the headboard when I woke up this morning and it addled my brain.' I went off to the coffee machine, retrieving the promised, caffeine loaded beverages and headed back to my office. 

"Thanks, Pez. I appreciate it," he said, for once avoiding the candy jokes. 

"No problem," I said.

What the hell is going on? I'm not saying what I'm thinking! I must have hit my head on something.' Thankfully for the next few hours I got immersed in paperwork, occasionally grunting affirmative or negative to what Jake was saying. Finally he stopped trying and left me alone.

I made a special point of staying away from Dante that day (even though I tried to do that every day) because in my present, strange state I didn't want to be commanded to do something that I wouldn't want to do but would still automatically say yes to. 5:00 couldn't possibly come fast enough.

***

I watched Sara as she went about her business in the 11th Precinct building. Occasionally through my Witchblade connection I could catch pieces of her conversation, and I noticed two contradictory actions: Sara's frown when her lazy partner asked her to get coffee and her obvious scorn of doing it, and her unusually congenial "Sure." I was surprised. Sara was acting out of character, and I intended to find out why for her own sake. 

***

When I got off work, I was certain it was a sign from God saying that he was done with me for the day. I reached my home in what had to have been record time; I had been waiting to collapse on my bed ever since I had emerged from it that morning. I was thoroughly exhausted and I couldn't pinpoint the reason why, because I hadn't been doing anything that would have required me to truly exert myself. I had already been feeling under the weather that morning and now it was continuing, gathering intensity as it went along. My head was being crushed between two rocks, my right arm was on fire with the pain, and I felt like dying would be easier than dealing with all the aches and pains that I was stuck with. I got ready for bed and fell asleep at 7:00, something that I almost never did. I was convinced that if I got plenty of sleep that night that I would feel better in the morning.

"This is probably one of those annoying 24-hour bugs. I'll be fine tomorrow," I said to myself.

Yeah. Right. 

Going to sleep that night was one of the most difficult things I have ever attempted to do. My head wouldn't stop throbbing even after I had taken aspirin, and I was unable to find a position that would allow me to keep my arm from hurting when I moved. I noticed some stiffness in my legs, but oddly enough my left arm was normal. I was really confused about what was going on, and if things weren't weird enough already, Danny popped up. I was too tired to get mad at him right now, so I started the conversation. 

"So, any ideas what's going on? Any helpful words of wisdom for me, O Wise One?"

" Sorry, Pez. I can't help you, but this stuff will probably wear off within a few days. I wouldn't worry," he said, obviously trying to make me feel better. He was succeeding pretty well. 

"You're right, of course, Danny. You're always right." I smiled weakly. "I need a shower."

"Bye, Pez. Talk to you later," he said, and I had time to flash him a stronger smile before he vanished. With some difficulty I got out of bed and made my way through the apartment to the shower. I undressed and started the water running from the showerhead. When it was hot enough, almost scalding, I stepped into my shower and immersed myself in the steaming sprays. My muscles rejoiced at the heat and I stretched. If there had to be one good thing about the world, then a long hot shower would be it. Period. And that was what I intended to do. 

After a blissful half-hour in the shower, I got dressed for bed. I felt like if I slept I would never wake up. That was a favorable proposition. As soon as my head touched the pillow, I was fast asleep. 

***

I was beginning to get worried about Sara. She was acting out of character and she seemed to be in great pain when she was entering her apartment that evening. I was watching from my usual position in the parking deck across the street from Sara's building, and I watched her all afternoon. I knew that something was amiss when she went to bed at 8:00. She never (ever) turned in before 10:00. I scolded myself for being so paranoid. But somehow in the back of my mind I could hear what unmistakably was Sara's voice, softer than it usually was, calling me. 

__

Ian. Ian, please help me.

I had to make sure that my lady was safe, so I left the parking deck and crossed the street. I climbed Sara's fire escape to get a closer look and peering through the window into the darkened apartment, barely able to make out Sara's form on her bed without the assistance of the moon which I normally had. I stood there for what seemed like an interminable time until motion in Sara's apartment caught my attention.


	7. Chapter 7

Inferno

By Divamercury

I don't own any character in my story except Ciara and Luke. They are all mine, although I'd much rather trade Luke for Ian:) Enjoy Chapter 7!

Chapter 7

I looked up to see Sara thrashing around furiously in her bed. I glanced at the watch on my left wrist. It read 3:00 in the morning. I drew nearer to the window so I could get a better view, and then I watched Sara roll over on her right arm. She screamed bloody murder, springing awake instantly, and that tore it for me. I opened the window and sprang into the apartment. I turned on a dim light and my gaze fell on Sara, her face twisted with pain and her body seeming so small in that enormous bed she slept it. Her frame was wracked with shivers, and I drew nearer to her, sitting on the edge of her bed. 

"Sara?" I whispered. "Sara, it's Ian."

She opened her eyes slightly. "Ian?" she asked, her voice barely more than a breath. 

"Yes, Sara, it's me. Are you all right?" I asked. 

"I haven't been "all right" for a long time. And most certainly not in the last few days," she said, her voice still hardly audible. 

"How do you feel?"

"My head seems to be between a mortar and pestle, my right arm is on fire, and I can barely move anything else. I'm incredibly stiff. Ian, what's wrong with me?" she asked desperately. 

"I don't know. I wish I did." For once I removed one of my gloves and I brushed my hand against her forehead. I recoiled.

"Sara, you're burning up!" I said, replacing my hand. I had never encountered a fever of that intensity before. 

Sara, who had been sitting up slightly, leaned back. "No wonder I feel like I got hit by a truck," she said tiredly.

"You need to go to the hospital." There was no response. "Sara?" I asked again. I came closer. She had passed out cold. I jumped off of Sara's bed and entered her kitchen, getting some cool water in a bowl and finding a clean washcloth in a drawer. I removed my trench coat (it was getting in my way) and then returned to Sara's side and started bathing her forehead with the cloth. A few minutes later, when she came to, she hissed at the feeling of the cold water on her forehead.

"Shh, Sara, it's all right," I said soothingly, and she relaxed. I continued to try to lower her fever, hoping that whatever this mysterious ailment was, it would go away soon for her sake. She wasn't in good shape, and I wasn't about to leave her side.

Sara's condition continued to worsen. She fell into a frightening delirium not long after I arrived and started shouting things that I had no hope of comprehending. I kept my silent vigil willingly, thankful that Irons hadn't called to demand to know where I was.

He must still be asleep or else he would have called already,' I thought. But I dismissed the thoughts about Irons. At this point nothing was more important than Sara. Mixed into the bouts of delirium she had periods of lucidity and during one of these I asked her if she would take something to reduce her fever.

"I would take something if I had something to take," she remarked weakly (and circularly). "I think I'm out of aspirin, though. That last headache that didn't go away drained the bottle."

I continued to bathe her forehead. Then Sara made a request that surprised me.

"Ian? Could you call Gabriel for me? I was supposed to meet him last night but it slipped my mind and I think he's probably kind of worried about me," she said.

Gabriel Bowman was a good friend of Sara's. He was a young man in his early twenties that had started his own dot.com business by the name of Talismaniac.com that specialized in rare and unusual trinkets. She had asked him to look up information on the Witchblade for her and through this they became friends. She thought of him almost like a younger brother. Knowing him, I believed that Sara was correct in her assumption that he was probably rather worried. 

"I don't know his number," I replied.

"Get my cell. It's on speed dial, button 3. That should get him," she said. "You will do that for me, right?"

"Anything for you, Sara," I said. Especially now,' I thought. "Now get some rest."

She nodded, laying back and closing her eyes. I began walking toward the coffee table where the phone was.

"Oh, and Ian?" she asked. I stopped mid-stride and looked back at her.

"Yes?"

"Thanks."

I smiled, and then went off to make the call. I picked up the phone and followed Sara's instructions. Less than a second after the first ring sounded I heard, "Chief?" on the other end of the wire. Gabriel had Caller ID and I was using Sara's phone, I realized. He must have been anxious for the call.

"I apologize for disappointing you, Gabriel, but this is Ian Nottingham," I said. I wished I could have been anyone else for just a moment.

Silence.

"What are you doing with Sara's phone?" Gabriel asked, a mixture of anger and nervousness in his voice. 

"Sara is ill and she wanted me to call you on her behalf. She said she had scheduled a meeting with you last night but was unable to attend because of her condition."

"Uh-huh. Right. Why should I believe you? The last few times I've talked to you haven't exactly been too friendly on your part. You threatened to kill me. Hell, you could have killed Sara and you could be trying to trap me somehow."

His words stung but I continued undaunted. I had threatened Gabriel on Irons's orders because Irons wanted to be Sara's sole informant on the subject of the Witchblade. Egotistical bastard. Unfortunately this plan backfired and Gabriel, either unaware of or not caring about the danger, continued to inform Sara on whatever he could find on the Internet. 

"Yes, I did threaten you. But Sara is fond of you and I will never do anything to hurt her, so you can rest assured."

"Well, that's incredibly sweet and everything, but let me talk to her or I'll call the cops."

I looked back at the half-asleep Sara. "All right. Fine. Have it your way."


	8. Chapter 8

Inferno

By Divamercury

Are you guys intrigued yet? Here's Chapter 8!

Chapter 8

I vaguely felt someone shaking me gently. "Sara? Sara? I need you to wake up." Ian's voice cut through the haze surrounding my senses. 

"Wha?" I asked groggily.

"Your friend refuses to believe you are ill. He seems to think you're dead. Please set him straight," he said.

I groaned. "Well, at least he cares. Give me the phone."

Ian handed it over and I put it to my ear.

"Gabriel?" I asked, trying not to sound as sick as I felt.

"Chief? That you?"

"No, it's Richard Nixon. Yes, it's me, damn it. I'm not in the mood to play right now, because I feel lousy, so please listen. Ian is telling the truth. Please start trusting him, because I'll be relying on him for a while. I thought you would be worried so I had him call you. Now relax."

"I was. I was sitting here on the edge of my seat waiting for my phone to ring. Do you want me to come over and see you?" he asked.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Umm6:00 AM."

"Well, if you want to come by, that's fine by me."

"Great. I'm headed out the door. Bye, Chief," he said.

"See ya, Gabe." I pressed the END button and handed my phone to Ian, who put it on my night table. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked me, coming to sit beside me again.

"Lousy. But about an iota better than I was earlier. Maybe I'll get over this without a hitch."

No such luck.

Suddenly I lost control of my right arm. It thrashed around for a few seconds and then all of a sudden the Witchblade appeared in its true form: the gauntlet. I tried to retract it but to no avail. Then my arm stopped whipping around and lay still on my pillow.

"Well, this was really strange," I said, trying to hide the mild hysteria in my voice. "I can't control the Witchblade." 

Ian was silent. I reached with my left hand for the phone and called sick into the office. They accepted my story and I hung up. Ian just stared at me.

"I can't very well show up at the office running 102 and having a gauntlet running up my arm," I said. Then there was a knock on my door.

"It's probably Gabe," I said. Ian crossed the room quickly and let him in. I had been debating over whether I should hide the Witchblade in its true form from Gabriel or let him know. I decided to let him see it because I figured that it was about time for him to know the truth.

"Hey, Chief, how ya doing?" he asked. 

"Pretty lousy. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Gabe scanned me with his eyes and then stopped on the Witchblade. His eyes widened.

"What the hell is that?" he asked nervously.

"This is the Witchblade in its actual form," I said. "It's a gauntlet that disguises itself as a bracelet, which is the only form in which you have seen it. It gives me all those things that you mentioned before: speed, clairvoyance, intuition, strength, visions of past Wielder's lives, all sorts of things." 

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Believe me, I would have. But I was paranoid about it. I didn't want anyone to know. You, Ian, and my friend Ciara are the only ones that know. Well, Kenneth Irons knows, too, but I don't consider him a friend."

***

She considered me a friend? I was amazed. It had always seemed as if she had hated me, as if she couldn't trust me. I listened to her finish.

"I wonder" she said. "I wonder if this illness has something to do with the Witchblade."

"It wouldn't be making you sick, would it, Chief?" Gabriel asked.

"It never has done anything like that before," she said. " I don't believe it's the Blade itself but more like something that's reacting to it." These were her last words of lucidity before she abruptly fell into delirium once again.

Gabriel jumped at her sudden change in consciousness. He sprang up from where he was sitting near her and stood by me.

"What's going on? What's happening to her?" he asked.

"This is how she's been all day. Normal one moment, delirious the next. In the blink of an eye she changes," I said.

"I don't like this. Something is really wrong and for some reason I find it hard to believe that it's happened by chance."

I agreed with him. I had been wondering all night about what could have possibly caused this to happen to Sara, whom I had believed indestructible.

"We should retrace Sara's steps for the past few days to see if we can isolate what caused this," Gabriel said. I nodded. Even though that involved contact with Jake McCartey, something I desperately tried to keep at a minimum, but it couldn't be helped, because the mystery had to be solved.

Suddenly some of Sara's shouts began to make tangible sense. It was as if she was reliving her life in her confusion.

"Gallo, stop! Don't kill him! Danny!" she screamed. "Ciara, get out of the way!" After a few more shouts of this nature, she calmed down and ceased her screaming, merely saying things in her feverish state. 

"Jake, you idiot! Did you actually think you could take on Nottingham? Be glad that you were lucky; he didn't have to let you off with what you gotDante, you're such a creep. Joe Siri is worth about a thousand of you. You belong where your name implies, buddy."

We exchanged looks. It seemed that Sara's true feelings showed through in her delirium. She continued telling people exactly how she felt about them, and Gabriel smirked at some of her comments. I went to the door.

"I am going to go and see if I can find information on what is causing this. Will you stay with her?" I asked. He nodded.

"No problem, Not–Ian. I'll make sure that she's okay."

"Thank you. I shan't be long," I said, and then turned to leave Sara's apartment.

"Hey, wait! Call me if you find anything. I'll have Sara's cell. You know the number, of course," Gabriel called. I nodded. "I'll let you know if she gets worse," he said. After this I finally left to begin my odyssey, hoping to find out what was happening to my lady and how to stop it.


	9. Chapter 9

Inferno

By Divamercury

Chapter 9 arrives!

Chapter 9

Ian left the apartment, and I went and sat down by Sara. I was really worried about her. She was like a big sister to me, and plus she was an all-around nice girl. She didn't deserve this. I had this really bad feeling that this was no accident, that someone had made this happen on purpose with nothing but malevolence intended. 

I couldn't hope to fathom the depths of Sara's mind, since I hadn't known her all her life or anything, but I could tell that there was something going on between Ian and her because of the way he acted around her. The little things: the looks, the concern, the constant watching. He loved her. However, I wondered if Sara felt anything similar. She would rather die than show how she was feeling, so I wouldn't find out that way. That was apparent. Maybe if I paid close enough attention, something would just make itself known.

I glanced down at Sara. She had quieted down and was now just tossing and turning a little as she slept. I hoped that she would recover from thiswhatever it was. It was really frightening that something like this had just attacked her, striking without warning. Sara, whom up until now I'd thought was invincible, was now fighting for her life. Well, at least she had good help on this side of the dream world. We'd figure this out. We had to.

***

Retracing Sara's steps wouldn't be too difficult. There were very few places that she actually frequented: the pool hall, the precinct, an occasional restaurant or two, and her apartment. Oh, and Vorschlag, of course. 

Well, those are good places to start. Stop #1: Precinct 11, NYPD,' I thought. I started walking and arrived about fifteen minutes later, all the while pondering what to ask and whom to talk to. I decided that first–unfortunately–would be Jake McCartey. I didn't trust him at all, but I could be very persuasive

I found McCartey as he was exiting Captain Dante's office. Another man I didn't trust. Dante hated Sara for no real reason and therefore was an enemy of mine, since he was an enemy of hers. 

"McCartey," I said, not taking time for pleasantries.

"Nottingham," he returned with a quaver in his voice. I noticed that his face had paled to a hue similar to that of refined sugar. I took pleasure in this. I terrified the man. Good. There wasn't a good probability of resistance from him. He was scared to death of me because of the multiple times I had cleaned his clock, as some might say. 

"I was wondering if I could speak to you. Privately."

"Um" He apparently didn't know what to say. "Sure. My office."

His office? More like Sara's office, noviceIan, you're being petty. Stop it,' I reprimanded myself.

"That's fine," I said, and we entered the room. I closed the door behind us.

"What's going on?" Jake blurted. "Where's Sara?"  
I needed to choose my words carefully. I wanted him to grasp the gravity of the situation but I couldn't tell him too much. He knew nothing of the Witchblade, and hopefully never would. And I didn't want him to come and see her, either. Sara couldn't retract the Blade, so he couldn't be allowed in. This was like walking on thin ice. You had to be alert every moment or else you'd end up doing something that you'd later regret. 

"She's at home in bed."

"Did you leave her there?" Jake asked with contempt. I chose to disregard that even though I could have broken his jaw for what he had implied, but I calmly (keeping my composure) said, "Not exactly. She is ill. It seems to be food poisoning or something similar," I said, making that up but suddenly realizing that that was a legitimate possibility. "I was wondering if you had been feeling strangely, so I could determine if the problem came from this location."

"Well, the coffee's been pretty lousy for the past few days, don't know what could have been in there," Jake said. "That's the only thing I could think of, but who knows? I've never heard of anyone getting sick because of coffee before, especially not Pez. She downs it like nobody's business."

"Well, thank you for that enlightening rundown. I believe I will take my search elsewhere. I appreciate your time," I said, and then I left the precinct. I couldn't get away from that creep fast enough; I had been afraid the whole time that I would suddenly jump out and start strangling him. Thankfully I withheld that urge. 

***

As my watch over Sara continued with no word from Ian, I noticed that her fever was rising again. We had finally gotten it down to 99 but I found out after taking it again that it shot up to 102 again. I did what Ian had instructed me to do in case this happened again: wet cloths. They seemed to help, but Sara was still delirious. Not as much as she was by a long shot, but at first she didn't recognize me. 

"Dad? Is that you?" she asked weakly.

"No, Chief, it's Gabriel. You know?"

"Oh, hi Gabe. Where's Dad?"

"He's" I had to be careful. Couldn't say dead, who knew what would send her beyond help in this state? "He's not here right now. It's okay, though, I'll take care of you."

"What about Ian?" she asked. I was surprised that she mentioned him. 

"What about him?" I asked her. 

"Where is he? Did he leave? Am I that far gone?" she queried, sounding like her old self and not her delirious self.

"No, not even close. Calm down, Chief, he's off trying to find out why this is happening to you. He shouldn't be too long. Just relax. Why, am I boring you?" I asked. Sara smiled weakly. That was the basic adverb to describe anything she was doing: weakly. 

"It's not thatI just was wondering if he'd abandoned me."

"He'd never do that, Sara. He" I didn't want to say anything that I wasn't sure of. "He cares more than that, I'm sure," I decided to say. 

"You think so?" she asked, sounding like a little kid. This unnerved me.

"Uh, sure. Now get some rest, Sara. You hungry or anything?"

"No, but I'll have to eat something or I'll starve. Let me have a little nap and then force something down my throat if you have to."

"Well, I hope it won't come to that, but I'll see what I can do," I said. "Now just relax."


	10. Chapter 10

Inferno

By Divamercury

Sorry about the confusion earlier. I accidentally uploaded Chapter 7 twice and after I removed it, it showed that there were 9 chapters when there weren't. I'm new at this, so bear with me. Again, I don't own anything save Ciara, Luke, and Andrew Leonard and Harridan Pharmaceuticals. Thanks, and enjoy Chapter 10! Chapter 11 will be out shortly; I have a personal rule that states that I can't post an unfinished chapter, and I have to have 1,000 words per chapter. I've got about 600-700 so far, so not much longer. Enough rambling. On with the story! 

Chapter 10

After several fruitless searches at a few restaurants where the workers knew her by name, I ended up completing my list of places to look into Sara's illness. I was beginning to realize that this wasn't any everyday bug. It affected the Witchblade. Hmm

The ring of my cell phone derailed my train of thought. I answered it.

"Hello?" I said absently.  
"Ian! Where have you been? You didn't come home! Where are you?" It was Irons, obviously. I snapped back to reality. 

Damn, he finally called.'

"Sara is ill, and I decided it would be best if I kept an eye on her," I said, telling the truth.

"Well, get back here now!" He hung up. 

Bastard.' 

I returned to Vorschlag. The only reason was that I had nowhere else to search, and it was the last location on my list. I was very worried, but Gabriel hadn't called saying that anything was wrong, so I tried not to think about what was going on. Maybe Vorschlag would have some answers

***

Gabriel woke me up after about a two-hour nap. 

"Listen, Chief, I know you don't want to hear this right now, but you need to eat something. It's been about 24 hours since you ate or drank anything, and that isn't going to help you fight this thing off."

"You're right, Gabe. I need to have something. Could you get me some juice or something?" I asked. He smiled, glad I was open to the suggestion. He disappeared for a few minutes. While he was gone I had some time to try and make sense of some things that had been bouncing around the inside of my cranium for some time. How had this happened? Why couldn't I control the Witchblade? In general, what the hell was wrong with me? Exasperated that I had no believable answers for these questions, I closed my eyes and tried to relax and think back to how this could have happened. For I knew that it was no accident.

"Okay, Chief, here you go," Gabe said, coming back into the room with a tray of food. All it had was a plate with two pieces of toast on it and a glass of orange juice, but it would be plenty. I had no appetite to speak of but I had to eat something. He set the tray on my lap and sat by me in his chair while I ate.

"Are you feeling any better, Chief?" Gabe asked, concerned. I couldn't lie.

"Yes and no." I didn't say I had do give a straight answer; I just couldn't lie! "The aches are starting to go away, but my right arm still hurts. I'm not as stiff as I was, and my fever seems better, so I guess I'm doing okay for now. This ought to be over soon, Gabe. Now it's your turn to relax."

***

I could put off returning to Vorschlag no longer. I entered and traveled through the many halls with no trouble because I was known there. I approached Irons's office but stopped short. The door was ajar and I could hear a meeting going on inside. I decided not to enter right then; I had experience in what would happen afterwards. I came closer to the door and crouched, peering through the doorway. Irons was meeting with two men, both of whom I recognized. The one sitting in the left chair in front of Irons's desk was Dr. Immo, Irons's pet geneticist that was given the credit of creating me. The one on the right was Andrew Leonard, the CEO of a powerful company by the name of Harridan Pharmaceuticals. I wondered why the two were in conversation with Irons at once. I caught the end of the conversation.

"So it is working?" Irons asked. Immo shifted apprehensively in his chair.

"Apparently, Mr. Irons. I am unsure of the side effects, but I have a feeling that the virus will be convincing enough in itself," he said nervously. 

"And the cure?" Irons said, fixing Leonard with his icy glare. 

"It is being kept safe in a vault at Harridan," he said. "You do have enough just in case she relents?"

"Yes, I have hidden it somewhere. I cannot remember exactly where it was placed, but if I cannot find it, then I will let you know. No matter what happens it will be close by."

"Well, if we are finished, Mr. Irons, I need to be going. I have another engagement," Leonard said. Immo muttered something along those lines as well, and Irons dismissed them with a careless wave of the hand with the Witchblade's mark on it. The two men left and I entered after them, taking my place at his right.

"Hello, Ian. It was wise of you to stay outside the door; you remember what happened last time." He had known I was there the entire time. I wasn't surprised. Yes, I remembered. I still had the scars to show it. I didn't respond to his statement.

"How much did you hear?" he asked me.

"Enough," I said. "What is going on?"

"I apologize for having to keep you out of the loop, Ian, but I can't tell you," he said with that purely evil smirk. I stayed silent for a moment, then noticed him glancing at a paper on the desk. He shredded it in his paper shredder after he caught me looking, and I asked, "What have you done?"

He merely smirked.

I was afraid that I had stumbled onto what I was looking for. I turned and left Irons's office, ignoring his protests, and went after Immo. I found him in the infirmary downstairs. He jumped when he saw me, dropping a tray of instruments that he was carrying to be sterilized.

"Ian! Hownice to see you." 

I severely doubted that. He was terrified, the spineless creature. The fluorescent light reflected off of his head, sparsely covered with dark gray hair, and off of his thick coke-bottle glasses. He reminded me of a mole in many ways. 

"Hello, Doctor. I have a few questions for you."


	11. Chapter 11

Inferno

By Divamercury

I apologize for the brevity of this selection, but my muse told me to end it where I ended it. This after my 1,000-word explanation, but oh well. I hope you like it, and I'll make Chapter 12 longer than usual! Anyway, enjoy Chapter 11 and remember that no one can sue me because I'm not making money on this!

Chapter 11

Immo seemed terrified at the very thought of an interrogation. 

"Well, if there's anything I can do for you, Ian, then I will do so."

At least he was tractable.

"What was the meeting in Irons's office about?"

"UmmI don't recall."

That was the last straw. I was through being patient. This man knew the answers to my questions and even though I didn't like to go about finding information in this manner, I decided to beat it out of him if necessary. I lunged at Immo and grabbed him by the shoulders. He emitted a pitiful squeak as I pinned him to the wall, anger flashing in my eyes.

"You liar! You were just in the damned meeting! Now what the hell was it about?" I was surprised at my vehemence. 

"Ironshad me create a virus designed for the Wielder." 

My eyes widened, but this was the only outward sign of my complete outrage. "And Harridan?"

"Had some of its scientists assist me. We created the virus and the antiserum, but Irons has lost his portion. He infected the Wielder, how I don't know. I am unsure of how she will fare," Immo said. 

Well, that was easy enough. I knew he would spill the beans' if frightened to any extent. So Irons was behind it the whole time. I should have assumed that from the beginning. The only problem was that the cure, the antiserum, was missing. Damn!

"Is that all?" I asked.

"Ummyes. I believe."

"Thank you," I said, releasing him and running out of the infirmary. It was too dangerous to be in there when you weren't in control of the situation. I returned to Irons's office.

"You have been filled in to the details." It wasn't a question.

I remained silent.

"Immo caved. Well, that isn't surprising. If he weren't such a genius I'd eliminate him. But he is too useful to me."

"Why?" I asked simply.

"Why?" He echoed my question tauntingly. "Why did I do this, you mean? Your precious lady has been antagonistic and stubborn from the beginning. It has proved impossible to subjugate her; therefore it seemed that disposing of her was the only way to retrieve the Witchblade. Originally I planned to wait for her to beg for help and then possibly give her the antiserum, but now that my supply is missing, I have no desire to order more. Truly she will be of more use to me dead than alive. Suffice it to say, Ian, you are of no more help to her than any doctors around. The virus, which Immo calls Lamia, is untraceable by ordinary equipment used in the medical field. It might be wise to pay a visit to your Wielder, because she may not be in this realm much longer."

If looks could kill, my glare would have dispatched Irons instantly. I left the building, trying to plan my next move.

***

Sara ate what I gave her. That was a good sign. However, as she was finishing her juice she started coughing. I assumed that something had gone down the wrong way. But that wasn't it. 

"Sara? Sara!" I exclaimed. She was coughing uncontrollably, clutching her chest; there was nothing I could do. I took the tray off her lap, put it on the table. Finally the fit stopped and she fell back, unconscious and drained of energy. What was worse, her fever had skyrocketed and she was barely breathing. I panicked. I reached for the cell phone and immediately dialed Ian's number.

***

My phone rang as I left Vorschlag. 

Oh, no,' I thought. I answered it on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Ian! We've got a big problem. One minute she was fine, then the next she"

"What? What happened?"

"She's relapsed into whatever it was before. It's bad. She started coughing really hard and now she's out cold, the fever's 104, from what the thermometer said, and she's barely breathing. I'm freaked, man. Get down here now!"

"I'm on my way," I said. He didn't have to tell me twice.


	12. Chapter 12

Inferno

By Divamercury

Hopefully this long chapter will satiate your appetites for a while. :) I will be working my fingers to the bone to get Chapter 13 out, so hopefully it will be out soon. Until then, enjoy Chapter 12 and don't sue me!

Chapter 12

I hung up the phone and tried to calm myself down. Sara was slowly coming to, but she was delirious again, murmuring things I could barely understand. It seemed like time had stopped. The minutes crawled by like eons and I could do nothing but stare at Sara. My eyes raked across her and fell on the Witchblade, unchanged from its gauntlet form. Now that was a story. I was still in disbelief about the whole bracelet/gauntlet thing. How a piece of jewelry could become an awesome weapon, let alone grant the Wielder such extraordinary gifts was way beyond me. The eye of the Witchblade glowed very faintly. It reflected some light from the sun back towards me from its place at Sara's side. As I was in the middle of my reverie, the door to the apartment burst open. Ian was behind it. Barely looking back as he slammed it shut, he rushed over to Sara.

"How is she?" he asked me.

***

"Better than she was. I was really afraid we were going to lose her for a minute there," Gabriel replied.

"We can't be sure that we won't lose her," I said, ruing the words. But it was the truth, and I said it.

"So what did you find out on your odyssey? Anything?" he asked, trying to ignore my previous pessimistic perception.

"More than I could have possibly imagined. Irons was behind it all."

"WHAT?!?!" Gabriel yelled indignantly. "What are you talking about?"

"Give em hell, Gabe," Sara remarked from her delirium. I stifled a smile.

"The damned malicious bastard!" he exclaimed. "The mother f–"

"My thoughts exactly," I said, cutting him off. I didn't want to hear the full extent of his vocabulary. Damned malicious bastard' pretty much summed it up. "It seems that he had his pet geneticist and a powerful pharmaceutical company that appears to be under his thumb create a virus specially for Sara and the Witchblade. And I think I know how he did it. I'll explain later. Anyway, there has been an antiserum made–"

"–Great! So"

"So, Irons's share has disappeared, with or without his aid. It's hard to tell. But whatever the reason, we don't have the cure, and from what Irons implied, that could prove disastrous for Sara."

"So, how did he do it? You've kept me in suspense for long enough."

"I don't know how Sara was infected to begin with–it could have been in anything–but I now know the significance of an event that happened a while ago in relation to the creation of the virus," I said. I knew that I was killing him slowly.

"AND?!Wait, you're saying that you had a hand in this?" he asked incredulously, waving a hand toward Sara.

"Accidentally. I didn't know the extent of my master's' evil intentions then," I said. "Did Sara tell you about her run-in with Gerald East?" I had no doubt that she had. I knew little of it, but I knew that it went farther than a simple arrest turned attempted murder. 

"She mentioned it. Why?" Gabe asked.

"Sara was wounded in an encounter with him ad lay on the floor bleeding for several minutes before they decided to do anything about it," I said somewhat bitterly. I tried to suppress the thoughts of my lady lying unconscious in a pool of her own blood on the floor of her home. "After the apartment was empty, I was sent to collect some of the blood on the floor in a small glass vial that was provided, and I did so against my better judgement. I only wish that I hadn't. As instructed I returned it to Vorschlag, where the vial was turned over to Immo's control. 

"Understandably I was curious as to what they were planning to do with it, but I assumed that it would only be made into restorative infusions for Irons. Therefore I never thought any more about it. But that must have been how he designed the virus. I don't claim to be an expert in the genetic field, but the most plausible explanation that I can come up with is that he took her blood, isolated her genetic code, and created the virus. It has been designed so that it attacks her and only her, disables the Witchblade, and is untraceable. That must be why she isn't healing; the Witchblade's properties in that arena are unable to function."

"So what you're saying is that Irons got this guy to create a virus custom-made for Sara because he wants the Witchblade?" Gabriel asked.

"In a nutshell, yes."

"Don't use a cannon to kill a mosquito," Sara murmured from her bed. 

Gabriel just stared. Then suddenly something hit me.

"Gabriel, keep watching Sara. I have to go back to Vorschlag."

"What? Why?"

"I have an idea, and if I'm right, then I might just know how to save Sara," I said.

"Well, if it'll help her, then by all means get out of here," he said. 

I nodded. "I'll let you know if I find anything."

***

Ian left, and I was even more confused than ever. Irons wanted Sara dead. This just added on to the list; it seemed that most of the people that Sara knew wanted her on the other end of a bullet to the brain. Weird. 

I glanced at the clock beside Sara's bed. It was noon, my lunchtime. I decided to skip it. I wasn't in the mood for food. As I sat, watching Sara, her home phone rang. After four rings, I heard Sara's voice:

"Pezzini, go."

A few moments later, after the beep, an woman's uncertain voice said, "Umm, hi Sara, it's Ciara. I was hoping that you would be able to come to lunch with me this afternoon because we couldn't do it earlier this week, but I guess you aren't home or whatever soI guess it'll have to be another time. Listen, don't forget that the rehearsal is tonight at 5:00. I'll see you there! Bye!" Click.

"Fat chance," I called to the answering machine. "She's not going anywhere for a while." 

***

When I got to Vorschlag, I went to Irons's office. Surprisingly, he wasn't in his office. There was only one other place that he would be. In the Witchblade Hall. I left his office and proceeded there, and literally ran into him as he was on his way out. Actually, he ran into me, blinded by rage.

"WHERE IS IT?" he roared at me, lunging towards me. I sidestepped him easily and after he missed he whirled around to face me. I knew what he was looking for.

"What?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WHAT, IAN! WHERE IS THE NECKLACE?"

"The what?" I asked, playing dumb. 

"CATHAIN'S GODDAMN NECKLACE!" he roared. 

"Oh, that. It's not in there anymore," I said, stating the obvious and pointing toward the Witchblade Hall.

He threw a punch at me. I caught it effortlessly in a steel hand. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I said. "It won't get you anywhere. Besides, why do you want that cross? It is just another relic in your collection. You have no special need for it."

"You have no idea. That cross is the single most important piece of jewelry to me, after the Witchblade! It is crucial that I find it!" Irons exclaimed. 

"Really?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow like Sara would in the same position. Irons let out a sound of extreme exasperation and stormed off to his office.

"I was right," I murmured to myself. "I must return to Sara."

I flipped open my cell phone and dialed Sara's. Gabriel answered on the first ring.

"Ian?"

"Yes. I'm on my way back. My theory was correct. I know how to save Sara."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. You will see," I said. "All wrongs will soon be righted."


	13. Chapter 13

Inferno

By Divamercury

And now, what you've all been waiting for, Chapter 13 of Inferno! Sorry about the wait, but my muse went on strike. I had to be very persuasive to make her come back to work. Anyway, exams are coming up soon and the teachers are piling on the homework, not to mention that next week I will have no life what with choir rehearsals and concerts, so it might be a while before I upload again. Just depends on if I have the time or not, but I will try. It will be no later than December 21st, though, because that's when my winter break starts! Heheheheanyway, read and enjoy! And I don't own any of this, so you know the drill.

Chapter 13

"Well, hurry, Ian. I won't be able to stand much more of this, and I'm almost positive that Sara won't either."

"I am on my way," he said, and we both hung up. Sara stirred from the bed. 

"Gabe?" she asked, more lucid than she had been for a while.

"Yes, Chief?" I moved closer to her.

"Am I going to die? I don't want any sugarcoating. Give me the facts," she said, giving me a glare. She was sounding more like herself now.

"Well, the truth is that I don't know. I don't think you will, because Ian thinks that he's found the cure. But he isn't sure, and I have to wait until he gets here. How are you?"

"I'm still holding on. I think I'll be okay for a little while. I just hope Ian knows how to get rid of this thing," she said. 

"Speaking of Ian," I asked, "what is it with you two?"

***

What the hell? Where did that come from?

"What are you talking about?" I asked indignantly. 

"You know what I mean. Why is he always around you? Why does he do things for you? Like get shot, I think you said once." Gabriel had that look on his face. The one daring me to lie.

"Irons tells him to do it," I said. That was true, usually.

"Oh, sure. He tells him to jump in front of a bullet for you."

"Yes."

"He tells him to watch you around the clock."

"Yes."

"He tells him to find a cure for some mysterious disease you have somehow contracted."

"Y–" I stopped. Damn it, he got me there. He didn't tell him to do that, I'd wager.

"I guess not," I said. Gabe smiled triumphantly.

"So, what is it between you two?"

"How should I know?" I queried. "Who says there's anything between us? If you're so goddamned curious, then Ian's the one you should be asking." And if you ask him then tell me what you find out,' I wanted to add, but didn't. 

Gabriel decided that it would be best if he dropped the subject. 

***

When I received the phone call from Ian, it had been 12:45. He walked in through Sara's door at 1:44. He was muttering under his breath, curses most likely. Sara was still as close to normal as she had been 59 minutes ago, her longest period without delirium. 

"Traffic a bitch, Ian?" she inquired.

"You have no idea," he said, and then snapped around, realizing that it was Sara saying that. He was at the bedside in a split second. It was weird, first he was by the door and then after I blinked he was standing right beside me. I rubbed my eyes.

"Sara! How are you feeling?"

"Well, I've been better," she said, "but thanks for asking. I have been told by a reliable source that you know how to get rid of this thing."

***

"Well, your source was well informed. Sara, do you remember the cross I left for you?" I asked. 

She nodded.

"Where is it?"

"Umm" she said, trailing off. Oh, no. If she couldn't remember, then we were all in trouble.

"Think, Sara. It's very important."

"Is it the cure?"

"I think it might be. Irons was looking for it earlier and when he couldn't find it, he flew into a rage. That clued me in."

"Well, the last place that I saw it was in my bathroom. I took it off before I took the last shower I've had for a while and I think I put it by my sink," she said. 

"All right. I'll check it out," Gabriel said, shooting a mischievous Look of unknown context to Sara, who promptly scowled. He left, and she looked up at me. 

"Listen, IanI just wanted to thank you for what you've done, not just recently but everything in general. I might not get another chance."

"Sara," I said, "don't even think that. You're going to be fine."

Suddenly she started coughing uncontrollably for a short amount of time. She had covered her mouth with her hands and when she took them away, we both stared at them.

They were stained with blood. 

Her eyes were full of terror as Gabriel dashed back into the room.

"You okay, Chief?" he asked.

She held out her hands with a Look that clearly asked, "What do you think? I don't normally cough up blood, Gabe." He flinched at the sight.

"Jeez! Is this it, Ian? It better be." He held out his hand. Dangling from his fingertips, suspended from a delicate golden chain, was Cathain's cross. 

"Yes," I said. Gabriel bent down and fastened it around Sara's neck. She promptly started coughing again.

"Damn!" Gabriel said, voicing aloud what was rattling around inside my brain.

We thought that everything that could possibly go wrong had already gone wrong. We were wrong again. There was a knock on the door. Gabriel froze. I turned and walked to the door, peering out through the peephole. A girl with black hair and dark eyes was standing outside. 

"Sara?" she called. "You in there?"

"It's Sara's friend. I'm letting her in," I said.

Gabriel took the necklace off of Sara and tried to hide the Witchblade form view with a pillow, but I said, "She know s about it. Leave it uncovered."

"Did EVERYONE know the truth about this thing before me?" he asked, frustrated. Sara and I both had to suppress laughter. 

I opened the door and Ciara came in.

"Sara, what's going on?" she asked. "I called your cell, hoping I'd get you, but you didn't answer. I was getting worried."

"Sorry about that, Ciara. I'm sick. Gabriel was probably on the phone. This is Gabriel Bowman, a friend of mine–"she gestured to him "–and that is Ian Nottingham, another friend. They've been taking care of me." She started coughing again. Gabriel and I ran to her, and in his rush Gabriel dropped the cross. Ciara saw it fall and picked it up gingerly. She stayed transfixed at the end of Sara's bed, the necklace still dangling from her fingers. Sara was trying in vain to stifle her latest coughing fit. 

"Wow, this is beautiful," she said, turning the cross over several times in her hand. Suddenly it emitted a soft blue glow and shot out of Ciara's hand. It flew across the room at something like supersonic speed and landed with a clank on the eye of the gauntlet Witchblade, where it remained. All four of us were dazed for a few moments. Sara stared down at her arm.

"Okay, what just happened?" Ciara asked slowly.

"Beats me. Any thoughts, Ian?" Gabriel asked. 

I shrugged absently, still staring at the Witchblade in mild disbelief. 

"Umm, you guys?" Sara asked, snapping us out of our trances. We looked at her. She pointed directly in front of her, towards her window. We looked, and Ciara and Gabriel gasped. I raised my eyebrows, and Sara just continued to stare. A translucent figure in armor had appeared in the front of the room. A figure with Sara's face.

"Cathain," Sara said. The figure nodded.

"I see that you have my cross. I am here because of the severity of the situation. That and the fact that I want to thwart Kenneth Irons's evil scheme." She said my master's name with a poorly suppressed shudder. "Your friends already know the facts about your illness, Sara, and they will tell you. The only mystery that remains is of why the cross can cure you. Kenneth Irons has had it, unfortunately, for quite some time, and he has been planning this attack for almost as long. He informed his little mole, umm"

"Immo," I supplied.

"Yes, Immo. Irons informed him to conceal the cure to the virus in an object in the Witchblade Hall; he didn't specify. Immo chose the cross because it would be easy to give to Sara in case she asked Irons for help. Ian, not knowing about the plot in the beginning, chose to take the cross and put it your possession, Sara, and it's a good thing he did. Are you feeling better?" Cathain asked.

***

I wasn't ready for that question. I considered it for a few moments. My head wasn't hurting. I hadn't coughed for a while. The aches were going away gradually. I was feeling better. Surprised, I said, "Yeah! Yeah, I am. That's weird," I said. I stared at the Witchblade, whose previously angry red glow was coated by a soothing blue one. The cross was doing its job.

"So the cross had to actually contact the Witchblade, not just Sara herself," Ian said. Cathain smiled and nodded. 

"Well, I must go. Keep that cross, Sara. It might come in handy again someday." And on that note, Cathain vanished. I laid my head back against my pillows, relieved. I hadn't felt that good for days. 

Apparently I was cured, because the cross broke its bond with the Witchblade's eye a few moments later and it fell to the floor, making a subtle clink as it hit. I released my semi-clenched fist and the gauntlet disappeared, being replaced by the bracelet.

Ciara seemed thoroughly terrified by the whole turn of events. "Umm, I'd better go," she said nervously. "You don't have to come tonight, Sara. You should rest. The next rehearsal is on January 4th. I'll see you then, I guess." She flew out the door.

"Well, that was interesting," Gabriel said. 

I smirked. 

Ian and Gabriel explained the facts of my illness to me. I was in shock. I couldn't believe that Irons would sink that low. The only question was how he managed to give it to me in the first place. Oh, well. I'd ponder that later.

"Well, I'm bushed. Healing myself has really drained me. Good night, boys, and thanks for the info," I said, falling asleep almost instantly.

***

Ian and I grinned as Sara fell asleep again. We were both relieved that she was all right. I just hoped nothing else weird happened. But I took that back. Wherever Sara went, weirdness followed. It was just inevitable.

"Well, she's really going to want to kill Irons the next time she sees him, huh?" I said.

"Undoubtedly. But she won't. She'll probably just maim him." 

"I'll be sure to be absent the next time she shows up at Vorschlag," I said. We exchanged a mischievous look. We couldn't wait to see what she would do.


	14. Chapter 14

Inferno

By Divamercury

I'm really sorry about how long it took for me to post more. Truth is, someone really pissed me off on Thursday and all of a sudden when I got home I had the irresistible urge to write. So if it seems violent, that was the kind of mood I was in. Anyway, exams are coming up this week so I might not have much time to write, what with the studying (urgh) but when I'm out for winter break I should have more time. Enjoy Chapter 14; I worked REALLY hard on it!

Chapter 14

I was asleep for the rest of the day and into the next. When I woke I was completely refreshed, and I was glad to see that Gabriel and Ian were still there. However, they were both asleep: Ian was stretched out on my sofa and Gabriel was still sitting in the chair by my bed, his chin resting on his chest. 

"So you haven't given up on me yet, huh?" I asked, my voice breaking the silence of the room. Gabriel woke up immediately.

"Hey, Chief. No, we haven't given up on you yet; you're one stubborn person."

"Well, that's reassuring," I said sarcastically, but followed that with a smile. "I am in dire need of a shower." I got up out of my bed and walked to where I kept my clothes, took out a white shirt and a pair of leather pants, and into my bathroom, leaving Gabriel behind with the sleeping Ian. 

I shed my pajamas and started running the water for the shower. It was only a few degrees from scalding when I got in, and I sighed immediately. This was what I was craving. 

After staying in the shower for at least half an hour, I stepped out, toweled off my hair and my body, and put on my outfit. It didn't take long for me to blow dry my hair and by the time I got out, Ian was awake and both he and Gabriel were waiting for me. I snagged my leather jacket from where I had left it, holstered only one gun to my hip, and headed for the door. I didn't plan on using the gun; the person that I was planning to visit would be much more afraid of my other favorite weapon.

"Sara! Where are you going?" Gabriel asked me as I was almost out the door. I whirled around.

"I've got a bone to pick with someone. Literally." Then I left. Gabriel and Ian both sped out of my apartment, Gabriel taking the time to lock it from the inside and closing the door behind him and Ian catching up to me.

"What are you planning to do, Sara?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing much. I just feel that a little physical violence is in order," I said casually. By that time we had exited the building and Gabe had caught up. We arrived at Ian's car.

"Keys," I said, holding out my hand.

"Oh, no. If you're insisting on doing this, I'm driving. There's no telling what you could do while under the influence of that quiet, seething rage that's going on inside you." He withdrew the keys and unlocked the car. The three of us piled into the car. Ian was driving, I was in the passenger's seat, and Gabe landed in the back. Ian pulled out and turned toward Vorschlag. 

We arrived in less time than usual, because for once the traffic wasn't a bitch. I was out of the car walking into the building before Ian had even stopped the car completely. I knew that they would follow me in, but that didn't bother me. The receptionist was on her break; Good, there's one less person that I'll have to maim,' I thought. I headed straight for Irons's office. I pushed the wooden double doors with more force than usual, the Witchblade converting to gauntlet form as soon as I entered the room. The doors slammed against the walls, creating a sound similar to a clap of thunder. Footsteps behind me let me know that Ian and Gabe were flanking me. Irons looked up from whatever he was doing, startled by the sound of the doors slamming, and his face instantly paled. 

"Sarayou're not dead!" Irons faltered, scared out of his skin by the look in my eyes. And he certainly should have been.

"I was, but I got better," I said with an evil smile. "Besides, there's always tomorrow." I stalked up to him, grabbing him by the neck with the Witchblade hand, and I pushed him to the wall behind his desk directly beside the fireplace. I released him from the iron grip but the Witchblade's sword emerged and I pointed it at his throat, barely putting pressure on it as it contacted his skin. 

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't peel you like a grape. And it had better be a damn good one," I said angrily, increasing the pressure on his neck with the blade. It made an indentation without yet opening a wound. 

The Witchblade wanted to spill Irons's blood, so much that I could scarcely believe its determination to get at him. It urged me on. That was when I felt Ian's hand on my shoulder.

***

"Sara. You mustn't let the Blade destroy your honor. This isn't you doing this," I insisted. 

"Ian! Protect your master, I beg you!" Irons choked. 

"Yes, Ian. Protect your master," Sara repeated in a low, sultry voice that was barely her own but still had that definite note that was always there when she spoke. Even more frighteningly, her green eyes flashed a brilliant amber and the pupils remained this color, giving her a demonic appearance. "The question is, though, who is your master? This cowardly, despicable creature–" she said, pressing the honed business end of the Witchblade further into Irons's skin for emphasis, but still not drawing blood, "–or me?"

"Who are you? You aren't Sara, that is certain," I replied.

"Perceptive you are. I am the Witchblade and I demand vengeance for the wrongs done me. Thissniveling craven, in each of my Wielders' lifetimes, has been the root of their downfalls, and I finally have a chance to exterminate him myself. Not even you, faithful servant, can stop me this time; Joan, Cathain, Cleopatra, you shall all finally be avenged!" she cried. She lunged forward even more toward Irons's elimination when I caught her arm and moved it off course. The blade slashed Irons as it went but it was not a mortal wound. He sank to the ground. 

The Witchblade turned Sara's glowing eyes on me, burning even brighter in anger because her plans were thwarted. She advanced on me, and I continued to back up until I knocked into a stand in the corner of the room. It contained swords and I drew one.

"Do not make me kill you, Guardian. I must seek revenge. This is your last chance. Stand down," she said, turning back towards the cowering Irons. I ran past her and blocked her path.

"As much as I hate to protect this evil man, and even though he probably deserves this, he is the closest thing to family I have. I cannot stand down, Lady Witchblade."

"So be it," she said in a deadly whisper, and the battle between us was on. I had to force myself to remember that it wasn't really Sara that was doing this. I kept talking to her all through the battle, trying to make Sara come back and the Witchblade calm down.

"Sara! I know you're in there somewhere! The Witchblade doesn't wield you, Sara! Fight it off! Regain control!" I shouted over the clangs and crashes of our swords. As I kept shouting things of this nature, and Gabriel, quiet until then, joined me, I noticed an obvious fade in the amber light in Sara's eyes.

"NOOOOO! I MUST GET REVENGE!" The Witchblade howled. 

Then suddenly

"Chill out, drama queen. This is my body. Return control to me, I command you, for you obey me! Return to your place!" It was clearly Sara talking, and whatever she had done by the force of her will overthrew the Witchblade's hold on her and the light went out in her eyes. Her eyes closed, the Witchblade retracted, and with a moan she fell to the carpet. I dropped my sword and caught her before she hit the ground.

She opened one eye, then the other, and looked up at me. "Ian?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"What the hell just happened to me?"


	15. Chapter 15

Inferno

By Divamercury

Sorry about the delay, but my inspiration flew the coop for a while. Anyway, I'm back, and I don't think there will be much more left, probably three or four more chapters. Please hang on, and I love how everyone's supported my stories. Enjoy Chapter 15!

Chapter 15

"I'm not exactly sure if you would believe me even if I told you what happened, Sara," he said. 

"Try me," I said. "It probably wouldn't shock me after all the things I've seen."

"The Witchbladepossessed you or something, Chief," Gabriel said, glancing at my arm strangely.

"Okay, that's one I wasn't prepared for," I said, following Gabriel's eyes and looking down at the bracelet on my wrist. It looked so normal, like a generic piece of jewelry, but beneath the surface of that currently quiet, blood red stone resided an angry spirit aching for revenge. With Ian's help I got up and walked towards the door. I was feeling really weak; the Witchblade must have drained a lot of my energy in its takeover. Irons had gotten up and was sitting back in his chair, a handkerchief pressed firmly over his cheek by his Witchblade-scarred hand on the open wound that I–the Witchblade–had given him. I met his icy blue gaze.

"Don't even think that I'm through with you yet, you son of a bitch. Just tell me one thing: How the hell did you get me infected with this thing?" I asked. 

He looked up at me with something like a combination of fear and hatred in his eyes. "The wine you drank on Christmas Eve was laced with it," he said blandly.

"But you drank it too!"

"Yes, but it was specified to your DNA. If anyone else drank it, they wouldn't be affected. No one but you, Sara" 

I was about to go after him again but Ian held fast to my arms. "Let him be this time, Sara," he whispered, and I nodded. This time? Was he implying that at our next meeting I should rip him apart? No, I doubted that. He meant that eventually I would get revenge in some form.

We left the building. Ian and I dropped Gabriel off at his apartment. Ian remained in the car while I walked with Gabe to his place.

"Thank you so much for your help, Gabriel. I would have died if it hadn't been for you and Ian." I hugged him. He seemed a little surprised, and he blushed, but he returned the embrace.

"I'm just glad you'rewell, Sara," he said. "I can't say normal because of that," he continued, pointing to the Witchblade. 

I smiled. "No, I guess not. So do you trust Ian now?"

"Friends of yours are friends of mine," he said with a wink.

"Wha?" I asked, confused by said wink.

"You know what I mean," he said. "I'll see you later. Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. See ya, Gabe."

"See ya, Chief."

I walked back down to the car where Ian was waiting for me. I was still puzzling over what Gabe had been implying. We pulled up to my building and I got out of the car. Ian did as well and we walked up together. After I had unlocked the door and we came inside, Ian closed the door behind us and stood in front of it.

"I should be going," he said. "I'm just glad you are healed, Sara. I hope you remain that way."

"So do I," I said. He was about to leave when I said, "Ian, wait." He stopped and faced me.

"I just wanted to say how grateful I am to you. You saved meagain, and I appreciate how hard you worked to find out what was wrong with me. You always seem to be looking out for me, and I just wanted to let you knowthat I've noticed."

***

She knew I was always around her? I had been wondering this for quite some time. But did she know that I was her Guardian, her protector? She should have figured it out, but what with all of these distractions, it might take her a little longer than it should. At least she realized that it wasn't Irons, and that was all that mattered at the time. 

"I'm just relieved that you are safe from the evil plot against you. Farewell, Sara," I said, and left before she could stop me again. I had to get out of there, to organize my thoughts. 

I hadn't told her all of what I was thinking while in that room. Certainly I was relieved that she was well, but there was something else. I was proud of her, proud that she had overcome this huge, life-threatening obstacle. I had been afraid that she wasn't the true Wielder, that the Witchblade wouldn't save herI wouldn't doubt her worth again.

***

January 4th came and went. I was really nervous at the wedding rehearsal because the only person I knew was Ciara and I couldn't be around her all the time. Hillary started to resemble a stray dog and followed me around incessantly, chattering on and on ad infinitum about everything. Louisa was still her arrogant, bitchy self, and the best man, Jacob, was the most narcissistic asshole I've ever met. Everyone else just ignored me and divided into cliques. 

Like I need companionship, anyway,' I thought. 

I suffered in silence until we went over every part of the service, and I was the first to leave when we were through.

Thank God that this was the final rehearsal. The wedding's in a week, and as long as I don't make a complete fool out of myself during the service or the reception, I'll be fine,' I thought as I left the chapel. I got on my Buell parked outside and sped away. I needed to clear my head. I turned on the next street and headed toward the park.

***

I arrived at the building across the street from Sara's apartment and looked across. She wasn't home, I could tell, because it was too early for her to be asleep. I then remembered the girl Ciara's message about the wedding rehearsal. I smiled. 

Sara must hold this girl in high regard to go anywhere near a church, especially one set for a wedding,' I thought. She must have gone somewhere to clear her thoughts.' And I knew where that probably was.


	16. Chapter 16

Inferno

By Divamercury

Not much more left, sorry to say. Only two or three more chapters to go; I haven't decided how many yet. But thanks for supporting this story and I hope you enjoy it. Danger Zone comes next in the series, and then after thatwho knows? :)

Chapter 16

When I arrived at the park, I headed for the statue of President Theodore Roosevelt. It was the first place that I thought I might find Sara. I was surprised to find that she wasn't there. I smiled and slapped myself mentally. I then left the commonly known part of the park, found a dirt trail, and followed this discreetly hidden path to my sanctuary. 

I carefully lifted the low branches of the trees and walked beneath them, following the path to the clearing. The full moon lit the way through the branches, and I stopped once I stepped inside the ring of trees. 

It was as I had assumed. Sara was sitting on the ground with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms around them, staring up at the moon. She seemed so peaceful, bathed in the heavenly glow of the celestial orb that ruled the night sky, and I hated to disturb her. She was in her element, completely separated from everything else. Just as I was about to say something, my foot inadvertently snapped a twig in the trail. She turned around and spotted me before I could hide. She smiled.

"Ian. Hi. I wondered if you'd come after me. Just wanted to clear my head after being exposed to that tiny corner of hell that is also referred to as a wedding rehearsal." 

I laughed. 

She smiled at my reaction to her humor. "So, did you want to talk?"

I nodded slightly. "I noticed that you weren't home and I wanted to find you. I didn't know where you'd gone." I took a few steps forward, getting a little closer to her.

"I wish you had come looking for me earlier. If you showed up for me at the chapel I would have had an excuse to leave," she said with a little grin. "It was pretty terrible, but I think I behaved myself for Ciara's sake."

I smiled, trying to picture what Sara would refer to as "behaving." It certainly wouldn't be the same definition that other people would use for the word.

"Ian, I have a question for you. I would really appreciate a straight answer, too, because that's all that I can really process well at this time of night. It's been bugging me for some time," she asked after a few moments.

"I shall do my best to help you in any way I can, Sara. What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Remember when you mentioned my Guardian, or protector, or whatever it's called, a while ago?"

"Yes," I said warily, not liking where this was heading.

"Well, do you happen to know who this mysterious person is?" she asked.

Damn. She asks me the question I most want to tell her the answer to, and I can't tell her. She has to work it out, to ascertain it for herself. After all, she might want someone else, not me,' I thought. Aloud I said, "I'm sorry Sara, but the very question you want to know most I can't answer. I have been forbidden."

"So you know but you won't tell me?" she inquired.

"I'm afraid not, Sara."

She got to her feet and walked over to me. 

"Ian, why can't you help me this once? Just this once?" The pleading look in her strikingly green eyes was killing me slowly in its longing fgor knowledge. I looked away to save myself.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you; I do. It's just that–" 

"–Irons won't let you," she said dejectedly. 

"Well, that is a plausible reason, but not the one I was about to explain. I no longer care what he thinks of what I tell you. He lost my absolute loyalty the moment he put that virus in your drink. I never thought much of what he did when trying to achieve his ends, but what he did to you beat everything he's ever done before. I can't enlighten you because the Witchblade herself won't allow me to tell you." 

"Wha? The Witchblade won't let you tell me?"

***

Well, that was a surprise. The bracelet that had strangely decided to attach itself to my wrist had now decided to intensify its torment on my life by becoming my own personal censor?

"How can that be?"

"Sara, you can't get all of your information from just asking. That would be too easy. Some of this journey will require you to look beyond this realm and into another. Your heart will tell you who your Guardian is; it's not straight black and white. It's really your decision, but there are people that would be better Guardians than others would be. It all depends on you, Sara, and that's all I can tell you."

"Well" I trailed off, sighing heavily. "Thanks for telling me that much at least, Ian. I'd better be heading home; I've got a long day tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?" he asked. 

"The wedding. At least it'll be over," I said, smiling. "It's worth it, anyway, just to see how happy Ciara'll be. But at least I get the day off."

Ian smiled at that.

We left the clearing together without speaking. The night was so serene we didn't want to break the silence. When I reached my Buell, I noticed that Ian had this unusual look on his face. It seemed like he was dying to tell me something.

"Well, out with it, Ian." 

He looked up at me, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"There's obviously something you want to tell me. What is it?"

This time it was his turn to sigh. "It's nothing, Sara. Good evening," he said, and vanished into the shadows.

"Damn!" I muttered. "I could have sworn that he was going to spill aboutwhatever it was." I put on my helmet, got on my bike, and sped out of the park's parking lot and off into the New York City night.


	17. Chapter 17

Inferno

By Divamercury

I can't believe that this story is going to be longer than The Angry Flame! Oh, well, not too many more chapters left, folks. I thought this would be the last, but it's not. Probably 2 or 3 left, at least. Enjoy Chapter 17, and PLEASE review!!

Chapter 17

The Witchblade was what awakened me at 9:59 the next morning. It never took into consideration the fact that I was off that day. When my eyes opened, I looked at the offensive object.

"You couldn't give me just one more minute, could you?" I asked it.

Its response was a smug hum.

"Grrr. I am not a morning person."

It buzzed indignantly.

"I realize that I would have had to get up eventually, but it's the principle of the thing. Oh, goddamn it, I'm talking to my bracelet now. Do I even have a tiny shard of sanity left?" I looked down at my right wrist, where my tormenter resided. "I guess that's debatable."

I got up and staggered to my kitchen, locating the cereal and pouring myself a bowl. When I finished I felt someone's gaze burning into the back of my head. Of course. I was sitting facing away from the far wall. I got up from my chair and whirled to face the window. There he was, positioned strategically on my fire escape. I sighed and crossed the room, forcing the window up and relishing the slam. 

"You're awfully early today, Ian," I said, leaning out.

"You're off today, Sara," he replied a bit smugly, leaning toward me.

"Smart ass. Well, in or out?" I asked when he didn't move, already sure of the answer.

"In," he replied. I backed up to give him room and he climbed in through the open window. 

"Hungry?" I asked casually over my shoulder as I walked into the kitchen.

I continued on into the kitchen and cleaned up my dishes. Better now than later. Plus, gives me something to distract myself from him with.'

"I'm curious as to why you're here this early, Ian. Did you know that I'd be awake?" I asked.

"No," came his response from the other room. "I was prepared to wait until you became so. I wanted to speak with you."

I emerged from the kitchen. "Can we schedule this for later? Sorry, but I wasn't expecting you to show upso I've got some things to do." 

"I can wait," Ian said, sitting on my couch. "I won't be in your way."

I sighed. "Fine. If you want to stay, sure, and if you decide you're sick of waiting, you have my permission to leave." I grabbed some clothes to change into, strode into the bathroom, shed my pajamas, and started my shower.

***

I should have realized that she would be busy,' I thought angrily when I heard the water start running. Today is her friend's wedding; she must have a million things to do. No wonder she took the day off.' I leaned back into her couch, sighing heavily. I wanted to apologize for last night. I should have told her all Iam allowed to, not by Irons, but by the Blade.' 

My eyes scanned Sara's apartment. Although I had been outside it many times, I had not been privileged enough to have been allowed access to its interior very frequently. I took it all in and then noticed a small table with picture frames placed sporadically over its top. 

I got closer and spent the time given to me while waiting for Sara examining them. Most had Sara present in them with others: her father, Jake McCartey, Danny Woo, and others. I noticed a candid snapshot of Sara and Conchobar together, and I looked away. I knew that she had recovered greatly from his loss but still wondered if she missed him. After staring at each photograph in turn, I returned to the couch and remained in that position, awaiting Sara's return.

***

"Talismaniac."

"Hello, is this Gabriel Bowman?"

"Yep. Can I help you?"

"I believe so. I'm Ciara Darkheart, Sara's friend. We met when she was sick?"

"Oh, right. How are you?" I asked blandly. Real smooth there, Gabe.'

"Great. Listen, I have a proposition for you, and it involves Sara and that other guy"

"Ian Nottingham?"

"Yeah! That's him. Anyway, I thought you might be interested in my plan. Do you mind if I come over?" she asked.

"No problem, come on," I said. This could prove to be interesting.'

The door swung open a split-second after I said those words. It was Ciara. I stared at her, my mouth agape. 

"What, can you fly or something?"

"Cell phone," she said, waving a sleek, jet-black Nokia at me. "I was standing right outside your door when I called and I wanted to know if it was okay to come on in."

"Sure. Now, what is this proposition you have?"

"Right. Surly you've noticed how this Ian guy acts around Sara?" she asked me.

"Yep. Continue."

"Well, it's obvious that he's got it bad for her. So, anyway, I need your help. I don't know how to get this to work. What I was thinking was this"

***

I had been waiting for Sara for about twenty minutes when her phone rang. The sound of running water was still seeping from under the closed door to Sara's bathroom, so I glanced over at it. Knowing that Sara would most likely kill me if she knew I was answering her phone, I picked it up out of the cradle.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Is Sara there?"

"At the moment she is unavailable. Can I take a message?"

"Is this Ian?"

I jumped, shocked, pulling the phone from my ear and staring at it, dumbfounded. I placed it back up to my ear, and replied warily, "Who is this?"

"Oh, so it's you. Good. This is Ciara Darkheart. We met when Sara was ill."

"Oh. Umm" I trailed off, unsure where this was going.

"Listen, Ian, I know your secret."

Again I was appalled. What could she have found out, and why was she confronting me with it when she (probably) knew that I could easilydispose of her?

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," I replied, belying my alarm by keeping my voice perfectly calm.

"Ian, it's obviousyou're in love with Sara."

I relaxed. I thought she had found out something in connection to Irons's commands.

"Perhaps," I replied evasively.

"Oh, come on, Ian. Now, listen. As you know, my wedding is tonight, and I'd love it if you would come."

"You're inviting me, a perfect stranger, to attend your wedding?" I asked. This girl was full of surprises. 

"We're not perfect strangers! We've met before. Anyway, I don't just want you to come for me. I want you to come for yourself. You know Sara will be there."

"I" All words escaped me. 

"You've got to tell her sometime," she said gently. 

"I suppose. All right, I will attend. I appreciate you going out of your way to invite me, Miss Darkheart."

"Please, call me Ciara. I'll see you there, then?"

"Yes."

"And, remember, don't tell Sara."

"I won't."

"All right, then. Goodbye, Ian."

"GoodbyeCiara."

We hung up, and I reclined back on the couch, my head spinning. I couldn't goI had to, I promisedI wanted to tell Sara how I feltbut I couldn'tGod! I had to relax.

***

"Well?" I asked anxiously.

"Hook, line, and sinker. He'll be there, I'm sure," Ciara remarked triumphantly.

"You know, I like the way you think, Ciara. I never would have guessed that a girl as nice as you are could be so devious," I said with admiration. "I just wish I had as much skill as you do."

"But I'm not being devious, Gabriel; I'm just helping them along. It's obvious that they have feelings for each other."

"You think Chief does?"

"Sure. She wouldn't put up with the constant watching if she didn't. It's clearly their destiny to be together."

"You believe in that kind of thing?"

"Sure. You never know how much of your life has been or will be written by the stars."

***

I got out of the shower feeling refreshed. I wondered if Ian was still out there; it had been thirty minutes. I dressed in a gray hooded sweatshirt, jeans, and my leather jacket. As soon as I put my boots on and headed towards the door, I walked straight through Danny as he appeared. I stifled a scream and it became a gasp.

"Sorry, Pez," the spectre said.

"Danny! What's up, partner?" I asked, trying to slow my heart rate.

"Not much happening on this side of the grave. It's your side that I'm worried about. Danger is around the corner, Pez, and I'm definitely a speaker of the truth."

"Danny, I know you're trying to give me some terribly well-hidden hint, but I can't decipher it. Anything else, Wise Asian Master?"

He sighed. "Nope, sorry, Pez. But think about what I said. Really think. It'll click when you need it to. And trust Nottingham. He wants to help you. I think he kinda likes you," he said with a sly, all-knowing wink.

"What? Ian? Nah"I said, then trailed off. Could that be true?

"Well, gotta fly. See ya, Pez," he said, and he vanished.

"This is really getting old, Danny," I announced to him, and went back to see if Ian was still waiting for me.


	18. Chapter 18

Inferno

By Divamercury

Hey everyone! I'm beginning to believe that I have no idea how many more chapters are left, so I'll quit saying "two or three" because that's probably not right. I'm glad that you all have enjoyed it so much, and PLEASE continue to review! I've been having an extreme review shortage lately. Anyway, thanks a lot and enjoy Chapter 18!

Chapter 18

To my disappointment, he was still there, sitting on my couch, waiting for me. He reminded me of some kind of pet, staying motionless, waiting for his master to return. But I wasn't his master, and didn't intend to be. 

"So, guess you don't have much to do, huh?" I asked, my voice full of scorn. I really, really wanted him to leave, becauseI was afraid that what Danny had just told me and had been telling me for a long time might actually have some basis in fact.

He didn't seem to pick up on any of that.

"Listen, I need to get moving. I've got a lot of stuff to do this morning and if I don't get it done, I'm in huge trouble. So, if you don't mind, I've gotta run. Bye," I said, and headed out the door. I locked it behind me and turned around, ramming into a wall of black. I looked up and couldn't believe it. 

In the time it took for me to leave my apartment and close and lock the door, approximately fifteen seconds, Ian had somehow been able to make it out the door and block my way.

"Wha?" I trailed off, deciding not to ask. "Well, if you really want to follow me everywhere today, then be my guest."

"That will not be necessary, Sara. I will not trail you today, but I would like to speak to you later. Ihave something important that Ineed to address."

"Okay," I said, confused as usual. I blinkedand as soon as my eyes opened again, Ian was gone.

"I'm going to have to buy some bells," I muttered, thinking plural for both Danny and Ian. Shaking my head in disbelief, I continued down the hall from my apartment and out to the street.

When I opened the door to the outside, I whistled loudly as my hair blew past my face along with the air rushing past my head and up the sleeves of my leather jacket. I shivered involuntarily. It was an exceptionally windy day in beloved NYC, and said wind had just turned me into a human ice cube.

"Why was it today of all days that I didn't wear long sleeves?" I muttered to myself. The nylon inner lining of my jacket caught the cold wind and trapped it against my skin like it was a makeshift freezer. I rubbed my arms to try and regenerate heat in my appendages.

The scene outside on the street was different than usual. Pieces of litter that usually remained dormant in gutters blew along the sidewalks propelled by the frigid zephyr. Men clutched their coats closer to their chests, desperately trying to block out the breeze, and women huddled in doorways, trying to keep their hair from blowing into perfectly lip-sticked lips. The faint rays from the cloud-shrouded sun succeeded in casting faint shadows of people and buildings alike onto the concrete beneath my feet but failed to provide warmth of any kind. In short, it was just a cold, dreary, shitty day. Unfortunate day for a weddingwell, at least it was indoors.

***

I hated to leave Sara, because I really did need to speak to her about my feelings for her, but it simply wasn't the right time. As I was on my way back to Vorschlag, since I had nowhere else to go, my cell phone suddenly rang. I answered it, expecting Irons.

"Hello?"

"Ian?" It was Ciara. I was surprised to hear from her again; I thought we had settled the deal. 

"Hello, Ciara. Just out of curiosity, how did you get this number?"

"Gabe's Caller ID. He never deletes any numbers off of it. He's got about 1,000 registered calls on here, and your number was here froma really long time ago. So, anyway, our plans have changed a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I thoughtyou're probably going to hate this idea, but I think it might work, so listen up"

***

I came back to my apartment at about 2:00 that afternoon after being gone all day. I had been busy doing errands for the service at 4:00 and came back by my apartment to pick up my stuff. Just as I was pondering how I was going to get a satin dress to the chapel safely while on a motorcycle, my cell phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked, praying that it wasn't Irons. I didn't have time to go all the way to Vorschlag, kill him, and get back in time for the service.

"Chief?" It was Gabe. 

"Oh, hey, Gabe. What's going on?"

"Well, we've got a little snag in the wedding gears. I just got a call from Ciara. She says Luke's best man is out of the picture. Flu."

"Sowho's going to take over?" I asked.

"Wellshe wanted me to. But I barely even know the guy!"

"Come on, Gabe. You're too nice to say no."

"Well, yeah."

"Someone's modest. Anyway, I've got a little problem myself."

"Elaboration?"

"Satin dress, makeup, and motorcycle don't mix," I stated simply.

"Well, how about this? I'll be the best man, rushing in to save the day, and on the way to the chapel, which is where I'm going in about thirty seconds, I'll pick you and your accouterments up on my way. Good plan?"

"Great plan. I don't know why I didn't call you sooner. You have a truly dizzying intellect, my friend."

"I'm hoping that was sincere and not a quote from The Princess Bride."

I laughed. "No, although that wasn't a bad idea. I just can't believe I said that. Listen, will you just come and pick me up already? This conversation is freaking me out."

"Ditto. On my way!" Gabe chirped, and we hung up. 

***

Ten minutes later we pulled up to the chapel. I felt stupid walking in with a dress (of all things) over my arm, but I made it through. Ciara came running up to me, hyperventilating. 

"Sara! Luke's best man is sick and the guy who was going to give me away can't make it and Louisa decided that she wasn't going to show up until the last minute and—"

"—Breathe, Ciara, just breathe," I interrupted her, shifting my dress over my shoulder and grasping her shoulders, restraining my urge to shake her. "Everything will be fine. Gabe's filling in for best man, I'll knock some sense into Louisa if I have to, but the giving away thing—"

"—Got it covered," Gabe piped up, jumping headfirst into the conversation. "We're all set. Got a friend to do it. Now just try to return your airflow to normal, Ciara."

"See?" I asked. "Everything's fine. Now, let's get started. I hope you have a semi-trained professional on hand, because makeup is definitely not my forte and I don't think you want to get married looking like something out of Rocky Horror, so I'll need some help..."


	19. Chapter 19

Inferno

By Divamercury

Thanks for your patience and continued support, everyone! More surprises await you in Chapter 19! Enjoy, review, and don't sue me, because I own none of this save Ciara, Luke, Andreanna, and the plot itself. Thanx!

Chapter 19

With some help from Marie Barnes, Luke's mother, and a young girl I didn't recognize, I ushered Ciara down the hall to the dressing room. Once her airflow actually returned to normal, she introduced me to the mystery guest. The girl had brown hair with touches of auburn pulled back into a braid and striking eyes of a beautiful pale blue. 

"Sara, this is Andreanna McPherson, another friend of mine from high school. She wasn't sure that she would be able to make it, but here she is. Andreanna, this is Sara Pezzini, a good friend of mine. She's my maid of honor."

I shook hands with Andreanna. After speaking with her for a few moments, I noticed her Scottish brogue. I smiled.

All of a sudden Hillary ran into the room. 

"I'm really sorry, Ciara, but Louisa won't be able to make it. Something about an appointment that she had already scheduled."

"What a bitch," I said, "backing out of her friend's wedding like that."

Ciara started hyperventilating again. Marie tried to calm her down.

"I can take her place," Andreanna offered.

"Where can we find another dress?" Hillary wondered aloud.

"Oh, that's taken care of. I ordered one from Mrs. Maury from the beginning because I genuinely thought I was going to be here for the ceremony, and it's such a nice dress that I decided to keep it. It's over in my hotel room."

"I'll get my friend Gabe to drive us over there, Andreanna" I offered, and she grinned. We went off to find our designated driver and struck up 

"That would be wonderful. Oh, and by the way, Sara, you can call me Mac. All my friends do. They say my name's too long. Well, Ciara doesn't; she has a thing about calling people by their given names."

"Yeah, I noticed. All my friends call me Pez, except Gabe calls me Chief." 

Mac nodded. As she did so I caught sight of her necklace and gasped inwardly. It was a round pendant of decoratively carved pewter that held a large, round, dark red stone that greatly resembled the one in the Witchblade. I cast a quick glance down to my counterpart for confirmation and realized that the two were identical! If it had happened a few months earlier, I would have been in shock, but after all I'd seen involving the Witchblade, nothing shocked me anymore. 

We searched the small chapel and soon located Gabe. I basically dragged him out of the conversation he was in (no time for courtesy) and pulled him to the parking lot.

"Well, apparently you want me to do something, huh Chief? And who's your friend?"

"I'm Mac," she said, extending her hand. Gabe shook it with a somewhat dreamy look on his face.

"So, you're Gabriel, huh?" she asked. "I've heard a lot about you."

Gabe grinned stupidly. I steered Mac away from him so Gabe wouldn't embarrass himself (well, too late, but I tried), and in the second of contact I had with her, a vision of her appeared before my eyes. She was wearing a long white robe and her necklace, her long brown hair flowing loose down her back in waves, and she was chanting words in a language I didn't understand. I shook it off quickly when Gabe and Mac stared at me.

"Chief? You okay? You look a little pale there."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just zoned out there for a second," I lied. "Come on, let's go; we've got to pick up Mac's dress."

We got in the car and sped to the hotel where Mac was staying.

***

I had been talking to one of the wedding guests when Sara burst into the room, as was her tendency, and dragged me out of it, through the chapel, and into the parking lot. I was about to protest but then I caught sight of the girl standing beside Sara. She was even more of a knockout than Sara, and that was saying something. After talking to her for a few moments and pondering Sara's request and the strange look on her face, I realized that this Mac character was something else. Her Scottish accent was very soothing, and my eyes went straight to the long necklace she wore. Its stone, set in pewter, I'd wager, looked exactly like the Witchblade's. I glanced at Sara's wrist and confirmed my suspicions. I wondered what that meant; probably more weirdness. I went over all of this in my mind while driving Sara and Mac to the hotel to get Mac's dress. Sara sat in front, staring out the window and muttering almost inaudibly to herself, while Mac stared between Sara and myself, out the windshield, and out into the NYC afternoon. To make a long story short, it was a very quiet car.

We pulled up to the Greene Hotel and Mac gave me directions to the entrance closest to her room. I followed them and parked along the eastern side of the building. The three of us got out of the car, still in silence; we were each buried in our own thoughts. It had gotten colder, if that was even possible, and a light snow was beginning to fall. Needless to say we got into the building fast. Mac lead us to her room and after rummaging through her suitcase, produced the dress.

"Whew. Great. Now maybe Ciara will breathe normally when we get back," Sara remarked, and I stifled a chuckle. We left the hotel almost as quickly as we had entered it and hurried back to the chapel. We didn't have much time.

***

"45 minutes and counting," I announced, glancing at my watch. The service was set to take place at 4:30, and Ciara was almost ready. Her jitters had been forgotten as Mrs. Barnes, Mac, and I helped her get ready before we got ready ourselves. I stood in front of a full length mirror hung on the wall of the dressing room, and I tried to decide what to do with my hair. I'd already done my makeup, despite the screaming of my inner cynical self. I decided to pull it up, but just as I was about to fasten it up, Ciara snatched the clip and brush out of my hand. I glared at her reflection, as she was standing behind me.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" I said. 

"Sara, you look fine with your hair down. I wish you'd stop trying to do everything in your power to avoid being pretty," she said as she brushed my hair. 

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Oh, come on, Sara, you know what I mean. All the leather. The motorcycle. The fact that this is the only dress you own. You go out of your way to avoid being feminine. Sometimes it's necessary. Please, Sara. For once act like a girl and not a biker chick."

I was about to say that biker chicks were girls, just different, but the pleading look in her eyes stopped me. It looked exactly like Ian's when he wanted you to not make him do something. Why did I think that? Startled at Ciara's look and my on thoughts, I allowed Ciara to do what she wanted with my hair. She simply brushed it the same way I usually did.

"See? There you go."

It was strange. The cynical side of me screamed that I had become a porcelain doll for people to dress as they chose. But another side of me, most likely the feminine side that had been squashed over the years, was actually pleased with the outcome. Terribly confused about my inner conflict and the vision of Mac I had seen earlier, I sighed and sat down on the small couch in the tiny chapel dressing room, waiting for the service to begin. 

***

I must have zoned out for a while, pondering my vision, because the next thing I knew, it was time for us to get lined up for the service.

Okay, Sara, just don't make a fool of yourself and you'll be fine,' I thought.

I was in the front of the procession, Mac (replacing Louisa) and Hillary following me, and Ciara and the man giving her away were at the rear. Luke and Gabe were standing up by the altar, decorated with a huge bunch of white lilies, with the minister, and both of them looked a little nervous. I scanned the rest of the chapel, tightening my grip on the small bouquet I held. Everything was draped in white and pale pink, and it looked beautiful. The chapel was almost full of people, probably mostly Luke's family and both of their groups of friends. 

Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, I was told to start walking. Mac, Hillary, and I started down the aisle, and Gabe smiled and winked at me. I returned the smile but slightly raised one eyebrow in a "What are you trying to say?" gesture. He discreetly pointed somewhere behind me, and I raised it again. He just smiled, as if saying, "You'll see." 

I finished my walk and heard the strains of the wedding march start up, and everyone stood. I took my place on the side of the stage to my left and turned to face the congregation. When I looked back at Ciara, it took all of the willpower I could possibly muster to keep my jaw from dropping. My eyes widened and my eyebrow raised of their own accord, however. I couldn't believe it.

Walking down the aisle arm in arm with Ciara was Ian Nottingham.


	20. Chapter 20

Inferno

By Divamercury

Sorry for the delay. Enjoy Chapter 20!

Chapter 20

Unwillingly I stepped out of the chapel into the cold New York evening. But cold doesn't really give it justice. If I think cold, the image of a piece of ice comes to my mind. But thisthis was no ordinary cold weather. This was the kind of cold that seeped in through your skin and clung to your bones without mercy, making your insides the equivalent of a refrigerator. It was as if someone had exchanged my blood for ice water. I, not having completely lost my mind that night, had thrown my leather jacket on over my dress, but it didn't help much. Transforming me into a contradiction of fashion (leather and satin) was all it succeeded in doing, but I didn't give a damn about that. I never had paid any mind to fashion. All I wanted at this point was a functioning heater. 

Gabe and Mac met me out by the door and we headed for his car, each of us still wrapped up in our own private thoughts. I threw the bag containing my jeans and shirt in the trunk of Gabe's car when we reached it, and Gabe and Mac added their own bags to the pile I had instigated. The three of us piled into the car, all shivering violently, and we started off for the place where the reception was being held. 

The service had been beautiful, and terribly romantic (well, according to Mac). Three fourths of the congregation was in tears, the other fourth pretty much unresponsivebut I wasn't paying all that much attention to them seeing that I was pretty distracted at the moment. I was staring at Ian the whole time in confusion. Once during the service our eyes actually met, but just for a split second. 

Why the hell is he here?' Obviously Ciara had invited him butI pondered all this and more as I stared out the window of Gabe's car. Well, at least it had a good heater. 

***

When we all arrived at the reception, the band started playing slow songs. I had every mind to ask Mac to dance—God, she was a looker—but there was something I had to do first. Ian was off in a corner, and Sara was over chatting with Ciara, congratulating her. Since Sara was tied up at the moment, I decided that my first move in this operation would be made toward Ian.

"Hello, Gabriel," he said somberly as I approached. I followed his gaze, not even bothering to guess where it landed. 

"Hey, man, if you're that lost on her then go tell her," I said. 

When he glanced at me he had a how-the-hell-did-you-figure-it-out look on his face. "I don't know what you mean," he said warily.

"Oh, come on, Ian. It's written all over your face. You love her. Listen; just ask her to dance. If I know her, and I do, she won't say no. To be completely honest, I think she likes you, too." There. I'd done it. I was proud of my deviousness as he actually smiled and slowly made his way over to Sara. 

***

"Congrats, Ciara. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks so much, Sara. You've really been a lifesaver, what with helping Mac and me out before the whole thing started and all. I'm convinced that things are going to work out. My first book is coming out in bookstores this week, and the critics are already loving it!" she semi-squealed.

"That's wonderful!" I said. "I'll have to make a trip to the bookstore this week." Ciara beamed with pride.

"And most of the proceeds from the advance payment for the book paid for all this. All my dreams are coming truebecause of what happened to me at the Angry Flame."

"What does that have to do with it?" I asked curiously.

"My book is called The War Within Me. It's my autobiography, and everyone's in it, but I changed their names. I really hope people like it."

"I have no doubt that it will be a bestseller. So who do you mean when you say that everyone's in it?"

"Well, you, of course, and Luke, East, and others in my lives. That kind of thing."

"Ah, I understand," I said. 

Luke chose that point to appear out of nowhere, much like a certain someone that had showed up unexpectedly, saving me from a good deal of awkwardness.

"Ah! O-Drive, good to see you again," Luke said.

"Just Sara now, Luke. I've moved on, and you have as well, haven't you? A little bird told me that you're working over at Trappetto's now," I said, desperate to change the subject. This conversation just kept getting better.

"That's right, Sara. It's a great place, and the pay's good, too. I'm glad you could make it; Ci's talked about nothing but you for weeks."

"She is my best friend, after all, Luke," Ciara reminded her new husband. 

"Well, everybody, what are you waiting for?" the announcer said. "We've been playing all night and no one's danced once! So come on, all you happy people, dance!"

Well, that was just slightly corny,' I thought. Ciara and Luke made their way to the floor, and I stepped off to the side. 

Guess I'll sit this one out.'

"Sara?" A familiar voice said. I turned toward it. Ian was standing there beside me. 

"Ian. Hello. It's nice to see you here." Damn, that sounded forced. You've got to work on those greeting lines, Pez.'

"Yes. I was honored that Ciara asked me to give her away. At any rate, Sara, I was wondering"

"Yes?" I asked. I was dying to know what he was going to ask me.

"Would you honor me with a dance?"

"What?" I was astounded. I wasn't totally sure what I had been expecting, but that sure wasn't it.

"Dance with me."

"Oh. All right, sure," I said softly. All of a sudden I felt like a schoolgirl, giddy and nervous, like it was my first dance. Needless to say, I was just slightly apprehensive at the upcoming prospect.


	21. Chapter 21

Inferno

By Divamercury

One more left after this one! Enjoy!

Chapter 21

I was stunned. I had been berating myself throughout our verbal exchange for daring to ask her, daring to hope that she might accept my offer, but in the back of my mind I never even dreamed that she would actually say yes. I supposed that I was just hoping for a little recognition, be it positive or negative. When I snapped out of my daze I realized that I was just standing there like an idiot and Sara was staring at me. 

"Well?" she asked, a twinkle in her eyes and an eyebrow cocked. She wasn't mocking me; she was genuinely amused.

I decided to play along, so I raised my eyebrows to correspond with hers. "Well, what?"

"It's quite obvious. You asked me to dance; I'm answering in the affirmative. So, let's get on with it." She smiled, taking my offered arm. 

I led her out onto the floor during the curt period between songs and when the next one started, Sara moved into my arms. My heart nearly stopped. I was picturing a dance with more space between the two of us, but that obviously wasn't what Sara had in mind. 

Her left arm snaked behind my back and stopped so that her fingers were just short of clasping over my shoulder. Her other hand, the hand—the one blessed by the Witchblade—grasped mine. I could feel the warmth of her hand through the thick black leather glove that encased my own. Thus, in the way she was positioned, I was very close to her, closer than I had ever been to anyone before in my life. And what's more, it seemed so right. We moved together as one; it was as if we had done this before, even though I could remember no instance from all our lifetimes in which we had done anything like this.

If my life had ended at that moment, my existence would have ended on a pleasant note. But since I didn't die, that moment was forever etched into my memory and would stay there throughout eternity.

***

It took me a while, but I finally drummed up the courage to ask Mac to dance with me, and she accepted. As we glided around the dance floor, I spotted a familiar couple swaying nearby to the music. Ian had gone and done itI was so proud of myself for setting that up. I searched the room for Ciara and when I found her, our eyes met and she winked at me. Now all we had to do was wait and see what would come of it.

***

The song ended too quickly. I don't know what came over me, but it was almost like I got lost in the moment. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. When the final strains of the song floated toward us through the air, we stopped moving. Ian kept his hold on my hand and whispered, "Come with me to the courtyard?" I nodded, and we left the reception hall. Even though it was bitterly cold outside, it was more private, and I knew that Ian probably had something important that he wanted to say if he suggested venturing out in such conditions.

When we were sure we were alone, I sat down on the short brick wall surrounding the huge central planter of the courtyard, currently filled with withered plants waiting for the first hint of spring which would signal their resurrection.

"So, I'm assuming that you had something you wanted to say?" I asked. "You should. It seems like you've been doing everything in your power to avoid saying it. So, out with it."

***

Was it that obvious? Could she have really caught on so quickly? Did she already know the strength of my affections? Or was she blind to it all, waiting for what I was about to reveal? Would she be hanging on my every word until I had finally cleared my conscience? There was only one way to find out.

***

I remained in my place on the planter, impatiently waiting for what Ian was about to say. Suddenly, he moved from his position standing in front of me and knelt, taking my right hand in both of his own. This took less than a second, and I gasped at his speed.

"Sara, I realize that I haven't been completely truthful to you. I have never willingly lied to you, and have only rarely flat-out lied to you at all, but I admit that I have misled you on several occasions. I will probably be punished for telling you this—"

"—By Irons?" I asked gently. 

He shook his head. "No, by the Witchblade. I will explain further momentarily, but now—"

For the second time in about thirty seconds, Ian was interrupted.

"Ian! Sara! There you guys are! Jeez, why'd you want to come out here? It's freezing!" Gabriel shuffled over to us.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I said, actually being sincere. My adrenaline was pumping relentlessly through my veins, and that combined with the anticipation I was feeling had kept me perfectly warm for the last few minutes.

"Yeahwell, anyway, we've been looking for you. Ciara wanted to talk to you. Both of you."

Ian and I got up and followed Gabe back into the building. Once inside, Ciara dashed up to us.

"Sara! Hey, we couldn't find you. Where'd you go?"

"We were out in the courtyard for a few minutes," I said casually. I could have sworn that Gabe and Ciara exchanged a look, but after I blinked all evidence of this was gone. 

"So, did you want something?" I asked. 

"I just wanted to say how incredibly grateful I am to you and Ian for coming through and helping me out."

That sounded a little weak to me, but I let it go. "No prob, Ciara. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it was actually kind of funin a strange, alternate-dimension sort of way."

Gabe and Ciara smiled. Not able to resist the infectious happiness, I succumbed and grinned. But suddenly that grin became a yawn. 

"Man, I'm wiped. I guess I'd better get out of here," I said. "I had a good time, Ciara, and I'm sorry to leave so early" I trailed off.

"Oh, that's fine, Sara. I'm sure you've got stuff to do tomorrow. Thanks so much for everything, and I'll see you later. We'll just leave you two alone," Ciara said hurriedly and practically dragged Gabe away.

"Well, that was interesting," I said, glancing at Ian. "But now I have no way of getting home."

"Why is that?" Ian asked.

"Well, Gabe's the one that brought me, and he's part of a hostage situation as of now, so"

"It would be no trouble for me to take you home," Ian said, and I thanked him for his offer. Together we left the reception and went out into the parking lot. I found Gabe's car and opened his trunk.

"Good thing he never locks anything," I said, getting my bag of clothes out of the compartment. I shut it with a loud click and turned back to Ian. We walked in silence to his car and then were equally silent on the drive to my apartment. 

We entered my building and walked up to my apartment door. Ian hesitated in the hall for a moment.

"What, you feel uncomfortable coming in the normal way? You want to go back downstairs and climb back up the fire escape?" I asked, grinning.

He smiled slightly and shook his head, stepping across my threshold.

"So, for about the millionth time, what is it that you wanted to ask me?" I asked, sitting down on my bed.


	22. Chapter 22

Inferno

By Divamercury

Well, this is it, folks, the last chapter of Inferno. Thank you for all the great reviews! Now you'll just have to start paying attention to Danger Zone, which may have some renovations, and whatever comes after that! Thanks again, and enjoy Chapter 22!

-DM

Chapter 22

Instead of kneeling this time, I took the liberty of sitting next to Sara on her bed. She turned to face me, questions in her eyes. I knew that I couldn't escape this conversation any longer. I took a deep breath and began.

"Sara, do you remember when I came to see you after Irons told you he was your Guardian, and I told you that it was another?"

"Yes. I remember," she said in a tone that clearly said, "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, I wasn't being completely truthful."

"Oh my God!" Sara said, leaping up off the bed. "If you're saying that Irons is my Guardian, I will have to jump out of my window right now because the thought of spending time with him just makes me sick," she emphatically said.

"No, nothat's not what I meant at all!" I said, coming over to her. "It's just thatyou are the one that chooses your Guardian. For all I knew, you weren't the true Wielder and Irons could have deceived you. Now I know that's not the case. I told you that to try and preempt that from occurring, but I suppose it wasn't necessary."

"So you're saying that my Guardian is really up to me?"

"Well, not exactly. There are certain people that have been with youthroughout lifetimes. Only they could truly fathom the responsibility they would face if they were chosen."

"Soare you a possible selection? You know so much about the WitchbladeI just wondered if you were my Guardian."

"Do you want me to be?"

***

"Come again?" I was a bit surprised at his bluntness. 

"Do you want me to be your Guardian?" he asked again, coming closer to me. His eyes bored straight into mine, dark hazel meeting green. My mind was whirlingmy thoughts were in a jumble. Up, down, left, right, everything was in a jumble. The Witchblade was in an uproar, hissing, moaning, making all sorts of strange sounds. And still I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. And then, finally, a voice broke through my fog, sounding as though it were far away. 

"Say it, Sara. You know it's true. You can't deny it. You can trick your mind, but you can't trick your heartor your destiny. Just say it. Say the word."

Visions sprang up before my eyes, tiny flashes of my lifetimes, and I was never alone. Every time he was with me. The faceless person, the Guardianhis countenance was finally beginning to take shape. And I was sure I knew that face. 

***

Sara's eyes glazed over slightly as I watched her. I instantly realized that she was having visions. I kept my gaze on her, waiting for her to come out of it, waiting for absolution of the pent-up feelings eating away at my insides. The suspense was killing me slowly. What would she say? How would she respond? Would she realize that I was the one? That I would sacrifice everything to keep her safe? And even if she did, could she—would she—accept it? I couldn't take much more of this; she was torturing me and she didn't even know it. 

***

I saw all I needed to see in a matter of moments because of the speed with which the fantasies flew by. I snapped out of my daze in the blink of an eye, and Ian was still there, waiting for me.

"Could you repeat the question?" I asked so softly it was barely audible.

"Do you want me to be your Guardian?"

"Yes."

He closed his eyes in what must have been relief, and then raised my right hand to his lips. The Witchblade erupted in colorful swirls and patterns while emitting a low, humming sound. We stayed like that for what seemed like eons, but the shrill ringing of a phone shattered the moment. Ian dropped my hand and we looked for our cell phones. It was Ian's, and after taking a deep breath, he answered it.

***

"Hello?"

"Ian? Where are you?" It was Irons.

"I am in my usual position, watching over Sara Pezzini."

"Tonight your vigil isn't necessary. Return to me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

"I have noticed your wavering loyalties, Ian. This won't be allowed to continue. I expect you back presently. Don't disobey me."

"I won't, sir."

There was no goodbye exchanged; my ear was filled with the sound of the dial tone. I turned to Sara.

"I have to go."

"No!" she said, blocking the window. "I won't let you. You come here, tell me all this, I accept you as my Guardian, and then you just decide to up and leave me like this? I can't believe you!"

"Sara, listen to me," I said, gently putting my hands on her shoulders. "I don't want to leave you, you must believe that. If I could stay here, I wouldbut you are safer with me near Irons. If I know what he's planning, then I can warn you."

"Oh, I get it. You're going to pull a double agent deal?"

"Something like that. But I can't risk Irons knowing about it yet, or else he will cease to confide in me and then we will have no idea what he intends to do. I won't see you get hurt, Sara."

"All right. If you have to go, then you have to go. Just be careful. We can't let him know that I've chosen you. Will this have told him?" she asked, holding the Witchblade up.

"I'm not sure. He might have sensed its pleasure, but that could be attributed to anything. I doubt that he knows the depth of what happened tonight. But I really must go."

She stepped aside from the window and I climbed out onto the fire escape. I looked back at her for a moment, and then disappeared into the night.

***

I went back into my apartment after closing the window to shut out the frigid air. Thoughts were whirling haphazardly through my brain, jeopardizing my sanity. I heard Danny's voice inside my head.

Confusion tolerance, Pez."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Gotta work on that," I said. I stripped down, put on a T-shirt and boxers, and got into bed. As my head touched the pillow and I drifted off toward sleep, it was the Witchblade's inferno of emotions that cast a new light on the inner conflict of my soul. 

The Endfor now.


End file.
